


The Dragon in the Mountain

by AlleyMoslof



Series: Dragon in the Mountain AU [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, G plus R Equals T, I also gave Toshiro a daughter, I love her, M/M, PTSD, Post TYBW, So spoilers!, Tosh goes through a lot, and he's got his back, background Gin/Ran, bloodlines are important, cause Ichigo is his cheerleader, eventual IchiHitsu, its okay though, shes cute, uhhh... tagging is hard...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29041215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyMoslof/pseuds/AlleyMoslof
Summary: She knew the dangers she was placing herself in when she took in her grandson. She knew that she could very well die, but looking into her grandson’s teal eyes, so curious and so full of hope, love and wonder, she knew she wouldn’t have any regrets.“Toshiro,” she says, taking him from her son, “His name will be Toshiro Hitsugaya."
Relationships: Hitsugaya Toushirou/Kurosaki Ichigo
Series: Dragon in the Mountain AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133873
Comments: 42
Kudos: 26





	1. Bloodlines

She knew the dangers she was placing herself in when she took in her grandson. She knew that she could very well die, however that was the same threat that had been over her head when she had married her husband, when she had her children, and when her son had become a soul reaper. 

Looking into her grandson’s teal eyes, so curious and so full of hope, love and wonder, she knew she wouldn’t have any regrets. 

“Toshiro,” she says, taking him from her son, “His name will be Toshiro Hitsugaya.”

Her son’s pale blue eyes widened. Her son, her poor son, who watched as his older siblings were killed. Who stole and lied and cheated to keep her safe. Who had to grow up too quickly, to be the man of the house when his father, a man he barely knew, was gone. 

He knew where the name came from, who held the name before, “You will put him in danger with that name.” 

“No more danger than he already is in. That’s why you brought him to me, isn’t it? Why his birth name must be hidden away and changed? Why he cannot stay with you or his mother?”

He looked away. She knew her son well enough to know that he would not speak of the dangers his son was in. He always did what he thought was right, to protect her, to protect his family. Even though she did not agree, she would not push as it would do nothing. Her son inherited his father’s stubbornness, that was for sure.

He looked back at her, his usual smirk hidden in light of the seriousness of their conversation, “Keep him hidden. Keep him safe.” 

Toshiro reached out to touch his father’s face, leaning so far that Koyone had to readjust her arms so he would not fall. When her son did not lean toward him, he let out a little whine before turning back to observe the stranger his father had handed him to.

“Of course.” 

And that was all that was needed to be said. 

Koyone knew, unless something changed, this would be the last time she saw her son. After losing his father and his older siblings, Koyone was surprised she was able to keep a straight face and not break down into tears as her son, her only remaining child, walked away.

Maybe it was because someone else already was.

“Daddy!” Her grandson launched out of her arms, landing unsteadily on his little four year old legs, catching himself on his hands before running after his dad, 

“DADDY!” But he couldn’t catch up to his father’s long strides. Koyone tried to chase after the young boy, yelling his name, but the winds that appeared suddenly were gaining strength and her body was not as young as it used to be. 

“DADD...” Toshiro fell, tears beginning to stream down his face, like the snow that started falling from the sky. He wiped his face in determination before looking through the steadily growing blizzard, looking for even a glimpse of his father walking away, leaving him, abandoning him. 

It seemed as if the more upset the child got, the more he could not find his father or the more his father walked away, the larger the storm grew. The winds were howling, crying out in desperation. Clouds gathered, dark, fierce and uncontrolled. Snow was slicing across skin, reaching, grabbing, trying to hold on. Ice began collecting on the ground, reaching, causing even the villagers down the hill to slip and slide. If only it could get him to stop! Stop! Please stop!

A blizzard, full of sorrow, helplessness, and desperation, had suddenly formed when only a few minutes prior, the skies had been clear. It’s icy grasp reaching further than the little four year old ever could, slowly turning the world around them into an impenetrable wall of snow and ice. 

Yet still, her son walked on, never once looking back, never once able to look back. Not knowing what he would do if he did. Would he be able to have the strength to turn back around and leave? Or would he surrender to this blizzard too?

“Daddy!” Koyone watched in horror as her grandson got up and ran into the wall of white. She hurried after him trying to keep an eye on the white haired child in the strong snowfall, an impossible task but she tried it nonetheless.

“Toshiro!” Frantically she searched, slipping on ice, her voice lost in the howling winds, “Toshiro!” 

“TOSHIRO!” There was no other name for her to call, for her son had never given her his actual name, the only name he knew. She only hoped the boy was smart enough to realize it was him she was calling for. “Toshiro!”

And then it stopped.

The storm stopped as if it had lost all energy, slowly fading away into a clear day once more. The temperature rose back to normal, the banks of white disappeared. Snowflakes fell gently before melting away as they approached the ground.

Breathing harshly, Koyone found her grandson lying asleep in the middle of a circle of ice, tears frozen on his skin. The snow was still falling and touching the ground around him, slowly covering him in a gentle, white blanket as if to comfort the sorrowful child. 

Terrified, Koyone ran to him and found him ice cold but still breathing. Sniffles escaped every few seconds as she wrapped him in her arms and rushed him inside to get him warm

Despite her terror, she knew he would be fine. After all, her husband had told her stories of what his mother could do, what the original Guardian of the Heavens could do. 

Toshiro’s name couldn’t be more fitting. What better name is there for the heir to the Heavenly Guardian title, than the name the previous one had lovingly given to her only son.

————————————------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Koyone enjoyed telling Toshiro stories. He was a bright child and always so open to learning, so ready to hear the next tale, the next adventure. She didn’t mean to, but she started telling him stories that her husband told her.

Stories of his adventures through his long life, stories that his mother told him, stories of the realm, of life and death. Stories of betrayal and of sacrifice. Stories of love and acceptance. Stories of struggles, of victories and utter defeat.

Toshiro would never know that the people in the stories were his grandfather and great-grandmother, would never know that they share the same blood. It was too dangerous. The stories were dangerous enough but combined with the name, the blood, the heritage…

Combined with the knowledge of what he could become, it could get him killed.

She couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk him. Her grandson, her wonderful, intelligent, beautiful grandson, who was so strong, so brave and so very loved.

So she stuck to stories. Sometimes she made them up, most of the time they were true. Sometimes they were just for fun, sometimes she made lessons out of them, teaching her grandson about responsibility, love, forgiveness and the dangers of anger and hate. Rarely did she ever repeat a story, except for one. Only one.

“Which story is it tonight, Shiro?” She says as she tucks her grandson and newly adopted granddaughter, Momo Hinamori, into bed. Smoothing down a stubborn part of his futon, she waits patiently as he calculates what kind of story he wants to hear or if he wants his favorite, watching his eyes as he deconstructs and reconstructs every argument and every idea.

“But Granny, I wanna pick the story.” Momo whines from the futon to Toshiro’s right, “He’s too young to be up this late anyway. He should be asleep like Muko down the road. HIS parents’…”

What Muko down the street’s parents said or did was not finished as Momo stops mid sentence at her grandmother’s look. Koyone was not a strict parent or grandparent, she never had been, but she did have standards and expected them to be met. (Something that her grandson picked up and may have taken to the extreme when he became a captain.)

“It is Shiro’s turn to pick the story as you picked last night.” Toshiro looks up from his hands in hope. He had been half expecting his granny to let Momo have her way, like everyone else did, but this was his Granny, who always tried to treat them fairly, even if it didn’t seem fair to them. If it was his turn, she was going to ensure he was given it, no matter how much of a tantrum Momo threw. It was one of the things he loved about her.

“I wanna hear the story about the dragon in the mountains.” 

Momo groaned at his decision, “We’ve heard this story a thousand times! Pick a different one, Shiro! Why do you have to be so boring?” 

Toshiro started to curl into himself at his older sister’s words. His granny frowned at her before gently smiling at the boy in front of her, “If he wants to hear the story, then he will. You can listen or go to sleep, as that is your choice, just as the story was his.”

The Dragon in the Mountain. That was her grandson’s favorite story. A story that his own great grandmother told his grandfather to get him to sleep. It was his favorite, too.

After putting her grandson and granddaughter to bed, Koyone went outside and watched the stars. She always felt closest to her family when she looked at them. It reminded her of home. (Another thing her grandson got from her)

At least you are no longer suffering, my love. She closed her eyes, at least, now, you are truly free. I hope you are happy wherever you are, I hope you have finally found peace.

“Peace doesn’t exist for people like me”

———————————————----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When her grandson was seven, she knew she could no longer protect him. When the shinigami woman came in the night and explained things to him like reishi and zanpakuto spirits, she knew it was his time to go. 

A child prodigy, just like his father and grandfather. She knew he would do well, only feared he may be too young. 

When he came to her, saying he passed the entrance exam and he would be leaving her, she said what needed to be said and nothing more but nothing less. She watched him leave, never once looking back, never once able to look back. Not knowing what he would do if he did. Would he be able to have the strength to turn back around and leave? 

He is his father’s child. There’s no doubt about that. She thought watching his white hair disappear beyond the gates.

————————————————————-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Koyone wonders what would have happened if the War of Extermination never occurred

Maybe her husband wouldn’t have been killed if the Quincy had been allowed to exist. 

Maybe her children would still be alive if there wasn’t such a prejudice against them. 

Maybe her son and her grandson would not be living as if they have the world on their shoulders at such a young age.

But maybe not. 

Maybe not.

It’s always best not to think of Maybe’s and What Could Have Beens.

As Koyone stands before her son’s grave, she knows he that would not be wondering. He who had a goal and spent his entire life to complete it. He who looked towards the future and rarely saw the present, let alone the past.

She was proud of her son, even if she couldn’t show it, even though she couldn’t tell anyone about it. 

He fought for what he believed in. He fought to defeat the man who hurt the ones he cared about. He fought to make the world a better place for his son and his mother.

Too bad no one would know. No one except those who truly knew him.

As she looked at his grave, a mere rock under a long dead tree with the wrong name written on it, she thought, maybe he preferred it that way.

Gin Ichimaru  
Sept.10, ?-Dec. 5, 2001

Snow drifted down slowly as if in mourning, but she knew better. Her grandson would never mourn his father. Maybe only the possibility of what could have been.

She bent down in the snow to write, feeling slightly foolish for doing so, but feeling as if she needed to do this, needed to write his name, his true name, just one more time, in a final goodbye.

Emiru Hitsugaya  
Sept.10, 1749- Dec. 5, 2001

——————————————————-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next time she saw her grandson, she had to blink twice to ensure who she was looking at. He looked so much like his grandfather, so lean and tall, that she almost thought she was dreaming. 

Except the eyes, those green eyes. Koyone always wondered where he got his eye color. Maybe his mother, she wondered, but as she looked over at the woman next to him, she decided, maybe not.

Rangiku Matsumoto. 

Her grandson would write her letters complaining about her, about her drinking and her adventures when she was supposed to be working. He would write about how she babied him and pushed him beyond his boundaries, taking him to festivals and parties when he’d rather be working.

Koyone found their relationship funny and relieving. Someone was there to look after her grandson when she couldn’t, even if he was unwilling to let them.

However, she also remembers a little girl who used to play with her son. A little girl who he rescued one day and whom he told his mother that he was gonna marry someday. 

She remembers the day she was attacked by goons of the man who ended up killing her son. She remembers him vowing to never let anyone make her cry again. She remembers the day when he left to become a shinigami.

For her.

For this woman standing in front of Koyone. 

To protect her.

To take revenge for her.

For Rangiku Matsumoto.

When Koyone first met Rangiku, she never took the time to notice how similar she looked to her grandson, being too busy comforting her little boy who was terrified at the thought of leaving home, of having that choice taken away from him. Looking between them now, she could see the resemblance. His coloration and stature may have been Emiru’s and Ryo’s, but his facial structure, his eyes, his nose, and the way his hair flowed was definitely his mother’s doing.

He is definitely his mother’s son, She thinks with a smile. Listening to the two heads of Division ten bicker, she couldn’t help but chuckle.

Her grandson was more open than her son had ever been. She could read him simply by watching his eyes. He was more trusting as well, especially when he was younger. He got those traits from his mother.

His way with people was the same as hers, too. Toshiro liked people, wanted to be loved and accepted by people. He adored and protected people, especially those he was close to. Those he claimed in his small circle, he would do anything for and he would gladly die to protect them.

Emiru never cared as much for people. He had those that he trusted but even their thoughts and values held no standing against his own. He chose his way and no one could change that, not even this Rangiku. 

Toshiro definitely has both of their stubbornness, though, Koyone giggled as she watched the pair glare at each other over their stew. Their calm discussion over seating placements quickly dissolving into a battle of wills and wits... and pure stubbornness… over the best way to serve tea. 

Neither was backing down and snide comments over tea preferences and China breaking habits were becoming even more ridiculous.

“At least, I never broke Captain Shiba's tea set and claimed a cat came through the window and knocked it off.”

“There was a cat!”

“No, it was Haineko, and you were drunk and threw Captain Shiba's tea set at her. When I asked you what you were doing, you said and I quote, ‘This bitch needs to calm the fuck down!’”

“Blasphemy!” Matsumoto crossed her arms below her chest. Her son unconsciously copied her by crossing his arms as well, “I can’t believe you would betray me like this, Taicho, with these lies.” She stuck out her bottom lip 

He rolled his eyes at her dramatics.

Yes, her grandson would be perfectly fine. Koyone took a sip of her tea, hoping that her tea set would not be the next one thrown at this ‘Haineko’

—————————————————-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He came to her one day and she knew it was time. Koyone dreaded this day more than any other. She prayed to every being out there that this day would never come.

But it did.

A man had come looking, a member of the King’s guard, he said. He brought her to the Seireitei with Kido surrounding her to protect her from the overwhelming spiritual pressure.

He took her before the Thirteen Squad Captains, before her Grandson. His eyes widened as he recognized her, almost taking a step forward before remembering his place.

She was so proud of him, of what he had achieved. As she looked amongst the other captains, she saw that her beloved grandson had found a good home here with good friends.

The orange haired captain, Ichigo Kurosaki if she remembered correctly from meeting him years ago, stepped forward in protest before being waved back by Toshiro. A short black haired woman had stepped forward as well, Rukia Kuchiki, but retook her place as well at her grandson’s motion. 

Koyone stood before the Captains in silence. The Zero Division Guard, her memory is failing on his name, introduces his mission and why he had brought her here.

He had sensed it. Her husband’s heritage. From a captain, it wouldn’t seem that off, Soul Reapers were created by the first Heavenly Guardian after all, but Koyone…

Koyone had no such excuse. The man had sensed the protection her husband had left on her skin, in her blood. A protection that would live as long as she would and prevent her from dying from anything but outright betrayal or by her choice. An old spell, lost in time, never to be replicated again, a spell that had been created by the Soul Princess herself.

The realms were falling apart. The Soul King was dead. This came as a shock to Koyone and she now understood why she was there.

“I am not the one you are seeking.” She says quietly, interrupting the Guard.

“...then who is?” The Captain with an eye patch spoke directly to her this time, Kyoraku, the head Captain and Commander of the Thirteen Court Guards.

“Everything I have ever done was to protect my family. From my husband to my children to my grandchildren. I regret nothing I have done to protect them, even if I was to lie to them.”

“Granny…?”

She turned to her grandson, her wonderful grandson, and wondered if he would ever trust her again after this, “You weren’t born Toshiro Hitsugaya .” His eyes widened, “I don’t know your birth name, your father never told me it. I renamed you to protect you from dangers that your father refused to tell me of. After hearing of his death and how he died, I have no doubt it was to protect you from Aizen Sosuke.” 

“That’s impossible. My father wouldn’t have known Aizen. He was from the living world. I was born in the living world. I died in a blizzard and…”

“No you weren’t.” She interrupted quietly. He stopped speaking. “I was there, Toshiro.” His eyes widened, “I chased after you into that blizzard. I yelled my voice raw when I lost sight of you. Then it stopped, and there you were, sleeping in the snow. I almost missed you if it weren’t for the green yakama you were wearing.

“I never regretted taking you in, despite not knowing the dangers that you faced through your father, because I knew the real dangers you faced through your bloodline.

“I never wanted you to know this story. I never wanted you to have to take on the responsibilities that your grandfather left behind. I wanted you to live your life the way you wanted it, not what was determined for you by your blood.”

“You must go to the Valley. If the realms have any hope, you must go there. Follow the guiding star, it will lead you to where you need to go. There you will learn what needs to be done to keep the balance of the realms. As the Guardian of Heavens, only you can do it.” She sat back, “That is all I know.”

Now, it was fate’s turn.

As Koyone watched as her grandson walked away, back straight with friends at his side already discussing the task ahead, she prays it won’t be the last time. She hopes it won’t be another back to say goodbye to and another family member that she has to bury.


	2. The Silent Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was used to soldiers. He was used to giving commands and having them followed. He was used to relying on them to take care of themselves beyond the work day, to be responsible, to feed and groom themselves.
> 
> A child, he was not used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next one kind of jumps from the present to the past. I hope it makes sense :)

“Good night, daddy.” Toshiro froze at the door at the sleepy mumble, his hand barely touching the wood. He slowly turned to look at her, eyes wide.

She was fast asleep, arms tucked around the dragon Matsumoto had given her as a gift and as a joke. He was glad she wasn’t looking because for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. 

It didn’t matter how many times she called him that, it still shook him to the core. The fact that he was in charge of this tiny being, this fragile person, was a responsibility he never thought he would have. 

He was used to soldiers. He was used to giving commands and having them followed. He was used to relying on them to take care of themselves beyond the work day, to be responsible, to feed and groom themselves.

A child, he was not used to. Someone who he had to make sure ate three meals a day, to make sure she was clean and healthy. To take care of someone twenty four hours a day, everyday. It was something out of his depth.

But he doesn’t regret it.

He could still remember the day he found her, scared, lonely and confused. She had no memory of her past, nor how she found herself on the steps of the Tenth Division. The guards never saw nor sensed anyone. No one saw anything or heard anything.

After months of investigation, it was determined she arrived there merely by accident. Just as other souls do in the Rukongai district, she just appeared out of thin air.

She was supposed to have been dropped off in the districts with a good family, but…

That didn’t exactly happen the way it was planned.

He walked over to her futon and kneeled at her side. He still couldn’t believe that she had chosen him. Above a loving family with parents and siblings, she chose a broken captain who had none of that. As if, despite his sins and all of his failures, he deserved to be loved too. He tucked a piece of her white hair behind her ear, “Good night, my hatchling.”

————————————————————----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He kept walking. He had to keep walking. No matter how painful it was, he needed to keep walking.

The hardest part is always the goodbye. 

That’s what his Granny used to tell him. Goodbyes are always hard and he’s had so many goodbyes, he was honestly exhausted from them. His parents, leaving home, Kusaka, Captain Shiba, Captain Ukitake, Head Captain Yamamoto, Captain Unohana, and all the men he’s lost in the past two wars and everywhere in between.

Now, he has to say goodbye to the little girl with no name. The one who never spoke, never said a word.

He didn’t mean to get close to her, but he understood her, understood her fear. Her fear of something happening to her that she could not prevent, that she was powerless against. It was something he felt every day as a child visiting the nearby village. Fear of what was going to happen with his every step. Was there going to be rocks this time? Sticks? Shouts of monster, freak, demon? How about beatings, cornered into an alley with no escape, surrounded by angry drunk men, three times his size?

Would he even survive this visit?

It was no secret that the village he grew up near hated him, despised him. Every time he took a step there as a child, it was a risk. 

He still has the scar on his shoulder from a stray knife, scars on his hands from falling, from being shoved one too many times, and scars on his feet from the fire of the stake they had tied him to. He could still feel the flames reaching higher and higher. Could feel the smoke filling his lungs, coughing and unable to make a sound. Could feel the skin melting away...

He understood fear.

When he looked at the little white haired girl sitting curled up in the corner of his office, he found he didn’t like fear being on her face, didn’t want her to feel the same hopelessness he had.

He sighed, startling the child. As he rose from his desk, he could feel her eyes watching him, observing every move, waiting for any sign of anger or danger. He walked closer to her, not making any sudden movements and allowing her to see his hands at all times. He had had the forethought to leave his zanpakuto at his house today, as any sign of danger caused the girl to panic. The entire time he moved, she watched and curled more into herself.

“Come.” She looked at the hand reaching towards her, open, empty and scarred, with all the distrust in the world, “It’s time to eat.” She looked up at him, her blue eyes seeming to scrutinize his very soul, before slowly reaching out and taking his hand. 

She didn’t trust many, but Toshiro, even if it was very slight, she trusted more than the others. His use of floating snowflakes apparently making him more trustworthy than Matsumoto’s blinding smile and easy going personality. 

As he was the only one she replied to, giving little nods and shrugs, it was deemed that he would watch over her until the investigations were over and then, depending on the results, would be the one to take care of her, giving her to a family if she was innocent or killing her if she was a spy.

After only two weeks of taking care of the frightened child, he was fairly sure the later wasn’t possible, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he could carry it out of it was true. He found himself relating greatly with her as he spent more time with the quiet child.

The girl was intelligent. Sometimes, when she thought he was asleep, he would catch her in his library reading books far too advanced for her age, reading books that he honestly had forgotten he owned.

(He did Karin a favor many years ago and posed at her elementary school to help her with someone messing with Yuzu without their overprotective brother finding out. He must have put them on the shelf in case he needed them again and forgot they were even there.)

No normal five year old should be able to read books aimed at ten year olds, let alone understand them. Yet, almost every night he would find her reading in his massive library, forwarding her eyebrows when she didn’t understand something, watching as she read a line or paragraph over and over until she understood or thought she understood what was being said.

Sometimes she would read several books before heading to bed. Sometimes she would fall asleep reading. Sometimes, she would slam the book shut in anger and place it forcefully on the table beside her before stomping to the kitchen, angrily eating food (sometimes an apple, sometimes amanattō, sometimes toast) before reentering the library and picking the book back up again.

It became a nightly routine for almost a week and Toshiro found himself asking his lieutenant to pick up more books for the young girl as well as toys and games.

“I just don’t want her to get bored and destroy my house as I sleep. As long as she’s distracted, I don’t care what it is or how much it costs.” 

Matsumoto gave him a long look, her blue eyes seeing meaning behind his words that he didn’t mean to put there or even knew was there, “Yes, sir! I’ll leave right away!” She grinned, a secret hidden in her smile.

Toshiro decided he didn’t want to know and dismissed her to the living world. He knew she would be gone for the rest of the day on a shopping spree, but at least it got him away from her asking questions he was avoiding or didn’t want to answer himself.

After another week, Toshiro found himself reading alongside the girl from across the library. The first night he joined her, she stayed on the same book for hours, a book he knew should only take her about twenty minutes, preferring to observe the person who entered her nightly sanctuary. She would pretend to read a sentence before glancing up at the teenager across from her, watching him read just as he had watched her the nights before.

It became their new nightly routine. After dinner, when all his work was finished, they would sit in the library and read peacefully until one of them or both of them were too tired to continue. As she grew more comfortable with him, the closer she would sit. Before Toshiro knew it, after only four and a half weeks since she started to stay at his house, they were sharing the same couch. 

By this point, instead of trying to figure out what the words in her story means, she would ask him. She would tap him on the arm or tug on his shirt before waiting for him to finish reading his sentence. When he gave her his full attention by placing the bookmark in and closing his book, she would point at the troublesome section.

When she discovered he was smart, at least smarter than her, and was willing to teach her, it seemed like a whole new girl was in front of him. Her curiosity of the world combined with his willingness to explain it, seemed to override every fear she still had about him. It seemed like finding out that they shared a love for knowledge and that he wasn’t going to take away her sanctuary, made her trust him more than he thought was possible.

She started to want to know about everything, from flowers to people to the inner workings of the division. He kept the classified information away but all common knowledge was up in the air for her to soak in.

And soak it in she did. 

Toshiro found he didn’t mind the silent questions, asked with pointed fingers, nods and tilted heads, as long as she was respectful about it. She understood very quickly that if she waited for him to finish what he was doing, he was more willing to explain in more detail and answer more follow up questions. She also learned that, although there were many things that he would tell and explain to her, there were things he could not and would not and she seemed to accept this with no problems.

Soon, it wasn’t all too strange to see the ice Captain wandering around with her attached to his leg or to his hand. Soon, it wasn’t all that strange to hear him explaining even the most minuscule thing to the intelligent child beside him. Soon it wasn’t all that strange to see him give her a small, almost proud smile when she nodded that she understood something beyond her age.

At least for the members of Division Ten, who took to the little girl, who followed their captain around as his shadow, like cats to catnip. They started to do little things like greeting her from afar so as to not spook her and slowing down their training sessions so that she could follow their movements. Toys and trinkets started to show up anonymously at Hitsugaya’s office as the weeks went on. Then, as the members got to know her better, puzzle boxes and even more books.

The men loved their icy, strict captain and would support him through anything and everything. Although they didn’t know where the little girl came from, they all saw how much she was helping him heal, how much more relaxed he was. They saw him smile more, leave the office more, open up more, and it was all due to the silent child, who hid behind their sixteen year old captain whenever she was frightened or nervous, like a child hiding behind their parent’s leg.

And the Tenth Division loved their captain’s daughter. Even if he wasn’t ready to accept that he cared for her. Even if he didn’t know what she meant to him. Even if he couldn’t see that the little girl holding on to his uniform was slowly becoming his entire world.

And then he had to say goodbye.

And then he kept walking, had to keep walking, needed to keep walking.

The hardest part is always the goodbye. 

He was so tired, so tired of goodbyes.


	3. Chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An untrained child had no place in the Gotei 13, had no place with him. He was a captain. That was his job, that was the role he put himself in, it was his duty. His division needed to come first, his orders needed to come first, no matter how much it hurt, the decision was final. 
> 
> ...it was better for the child anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in the past where Toshiro is taking the silent child to her new family and the turning point in their relationship.
> 
> Trigger Warning for PTSD, flashbacks, and child abandonment

When Toshiro received the report that the investigation on the silent child in his care was over, he thought he would be relieved. Instead, he was sad, almost heartbroken over the news. It was a difficult revelation for someone who thought his heart was long frozen over.

But all the same.

The child was innocent. Just a random soul that appeared in a random place.

And now it was time for her to go. An untrained child had no place in the Gotei 13, had no place with him. He was a captain. That was his job, that was the role he put himself in, it was his duty. His division needed to come first, his orders needed to come first, no matter how much it hurt, the decision was final. 

...it was better for the child anyway.

———————————————————-----------------------------------------------------------------

A family was found. 

A family with parents and siblings that was happy to take in the five year old sleeping on his couch. 

Long gone were the days of her curling up in the corner. Long gone were the days of her jumping at the slightest movement, the slightest sound. Long gone were the days of fear. 

She trusted him to look after her. She trusted him to take care of her. She trusted him to protect her. 

And now, he would do it no longer. His job was done, even if it didn’t seem like a job anymore. Some days he forgot he was ordered to take care of her, to investigate her and her intentions. Days where he would finish work early just to walk around the inner districts with the child, picking up more books, eating food that she had never had before, watching the skies as the sun set on top of rooftops.

And then a report would be needed and everything came crashing down.

Not all the days were easy. There were days where her fear would come back, where he would misstep or get angry at something and frighten her. There were days where her silence frustrated him and he had to walk away before he snapped. There were days where she would try to communicate or ask questions and he couldn’t understand and she would stomp her feet in frustration.

They both hated explaining things multiple times. They were both stubborn and quick to anger and way too smart for their own good. It didn’t surprise anyone that there were days where they wouldn’t speak to each other (silently or verbally). 

But now those days were gone. She was leaving. 

Forever.

He laid the report down on his desk and rubbed his face, suddenly feeling way older than his years. Suddenly feeling the weight of his position on his shoulders once more. The weight of duty, the weight of honor, the weight of responsibility. Of carrying all his men, protecting them, guiding them. 

He felt a pull on his sleeve.

There she was, blue eyes staring at him. Her white hair was done up in a French braid of Matsumoto’s doing. She was wearing an ice blue kimono today. Matsumoto enjoyed spoiling her and dressing her up. Toshiro swears she had a different outfit for each day. 

“Hi, little one.” He gently smiled at her, “We’re going on a trip tomorrow. How does that sound?” She smiled, small, shy but excited, before racing off to grab her wooden horse that they had picked up in the districts. She waved it excitedly, “Yes, we are going to the districts. We are going to meet some people who are gonna be very important to you.” 

Her smile died a little bit at the sound of meeting strangers and her arm lowered. She frowned in thought before walking back to him and tapping his leg. He chuckled slightly before picking her up and placing her in his lap. She tucked her head under his chin, listening to his heart, and curling around her horse.

She always did that when she needed comfort. Always wanted to be held, whether it was a hug or just his hand. The thought of meeting strangers worried her, scared her even. He wrapped an arm around her before scooting back to his desk to continue working. It took a while to learn how to do reports one handed but, with the pens Kurosaki got him from the world of the living, it got easier. 

He was gonna miss her.

Slowly he could feel her breathing slow as she fell back asleep. She shifted a bit, curling more into him as she fell deeper into sleep. He stopped working to adjust his arm, prepared to spend however long without moving. Her light weight, a comfort as he continued to work.

He was so tired of goodbyes.

——————————————————--------------------------------------------------------------------

The house was modest but homey, much bigger than his childhood home. He almost wished it was unstable and wrecked. Almost wished he could destroy it himself, it would be so easy and he wouldn’t have to leave his ward here, but he couldn’t. His white haired child hid behind his leg even more as they approached the building, her hand having a grip that could break bones if he hadn’t been a captain.

This was it. 

He approached the door, leaving Kurosaki standing in disapproval (he didn’t agree with his orders), not noticing he was walking slower, almost hesitantly. 

This was it.

The child seemed to pick up on it though, as she started to grip on to his pants leg as well, making walking a little more difficult.

This was it.

He picked her up, partially so he could walk easier, partially so he could comfort her, (partially because he knew this was the last time he would hold his little girl, and partially because he didn’t want to let her go.)

This was it.

He knocked on the door. A woman, short and lovely, opened the door with a gentle smile.

This was the end.

This was their goodbye.

… he was so... 

...tired…

———————————————————

He kept walking. He had to keep walking. No matter how painful it was, he needed to keep walking.

He could hear her tears, his ears trained over the months to listen for the slightest sign of her distress. He wanted to comfort her, tell her it was going to be okay. He wanted to hold her in his arms and read stories to her or take her walking around the inner districts. Anything to stop her sorrow.

But still he kept walking. 

_ She’ll be happier here.  _ He tried to convince himself, feeling as if his heart was in his throat. Kurosaki’s eyes were sympathetic and sad,  _ she’ll be better taken care of here. No threats. No dangerous career. No risk.  _

His eyes burned. The long buried feeling of crying seeming to come back out of the recesses of his childhood. He had forgotten he could cry, believing he had lost that right when he was much younger, when crying was a weakness of a child and he was no child.

But still he kept walking.

He heard the woman ( _ her new parent _ , his mind betrayed him by reminding,  _ the one you left her with. The one you abandoned her with)  _ trying to comfort the sobbing child.

And still he kept walking. 

Hearing her tears felt like lashes. Each one more painful than the last. Digging into his heart, his soul, to the point even Hyorinmaru, who had been silent through all of this, was flinching in pain and reaching out in comfort.

And still he kept walking.

Until he couldn’t.

He couldn’t do this.

“DADDY!” 

He heard shouts from behind him, one a woman and the other a frantic child, and footsteps barreling towards him, but all he could register was the blizzard. 

The blizzard that was full of sorrow, helplessness, and desperation. Reaching out with sharp, howling winds and slippery ice, trying to get him to stop. Stop! Please stop!

His foot froze mid step, reality slipping with every blink. 

Blink. The world was a white frozen wasteland. Snow banks appeared on nearby trees, bushes, anything that it could gather on. Wind howled, slicing across skin, reaching, grabbing, trying to hold on. Clouds gathered, dark, fierce and uncontrolled. Ice began collecting on the ground, reaching, causing even the villagers down the hill to slip and slide. His father’s back being the only thing he could truly focus on as he walked away, tall and straight as if he never even cared about the child he was leaving behind.

(For some reason, he could almost see his father wearing white.)

Blink. The frozen wasteland was gone. The wind started to blow, howling, slicing across skin, grabbing, reaching further than the little five year old could. Autumn leaves flying in all directions as the wind picked up speed. 

(Strange… Wasn’t it just white? Why isn’t it white?)

Blink. Someone’s calling a name. But that’s not his name. He doesn’t want that name. He wants the name his momma gave him. He wants his momma. Where’s his mama? His distress seemed to cause the wind to pick up, blocking out the stranger’s unwanted shouts.

Blink. Different shouts were behind him but he couldn’t register what they were saying. A name, no, a title. One he wishes he had but knew he would never gain. He was too cold. Too prickly. Too heartless. Too bad-tempered. Too cynical. Too… broken. 

He was too broken.

Blink. 

“DADDY!” 

He felt four years older again. Watching as his father left him, abandoning him. He felt the desperation, the sorrow as if his father was abandoning him now. Leaving him to die in this field of ice.

He couldn’t do this. 

His breathing picked up as his panic soared, unable to differentiate which reality was his own. The wind, the shouting, the screams for a father, they kept repeating over and over and over. They just kept repeating!

He couldn’t do this. 

Tears welled up in his eyes. He clenched his teeth trying to calm himself. He slammed his hands on his ears as more shouts joined. His mistakes, his burdens. 

Freak! Monster! 

“Toshiro!”

Fight! Fight! Prove who has the right to wield Hyorinmaru! Fight! 

Demon! 

Gisselle! Gisselle! Gisselle! 

Toshiro!

Fight! Fight!

After all, it’ll all be for the sake of the Sereitei.

“Toshiro!”

Gisselle! Gisselle! Gisselle! 

Freak! Monster! 

So full of openings. 

Toshiro!

Gisselle! Gisselle! Gisselle! 

Shiro… why? 

His mind started going fuzzy as his breathing got too fast until all he could hear were the shouts repeating, repeating, repeating. They just kept repeating!

His face going numb as he struggled against the voices in his head and his vision changing every time he blinked.

He couldn’t...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It stopped.

It suddenly stopped as a small body slammed into his legs, almost knocking him forward. His mind and vision cleared as he took a step to correct his balance before looking down at the sobbing child wrapped tightly around his right leg.

“Daddy…” she quietly whispered through her tears, rubbing her snotty nose into his pant’s leg.

“I’m sorry.” He gently unwrapped her from his leg before collapsing on his knees, “I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her tears soaking into his uniform. Her whispered words repeated into his chest, the repetition a comfort this time, “I’m sorry.” He felt a tear roll down his face, “I’m so sorry, little one.” 

He couldn’t do this. 

He couldn’t make the same choice his father had made. He couldn’t leave her, abandon her. He knew what that was like, how that felt.

After all, how could you accept that anyone cared for you, loved you, when your own parents didn’t? How could you trust anyone if you couldn’t even trust them?

How could you amount to anything if even your own parents didn’t want you, that they hated you so much, at four years old, that they wanted you dead, but wouldn’t give you the mercy or dignity to do it themselves or at least give you a quick death.

Forever asking why with no answer. Why me? Why did you leave? Why did you not care for me? Why? 

Why? 

What did I do wrong? What’s wrong with me that you hated me so much? 

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t leave her with those questions, the same questions he never and will never get answered. 

He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t do this.

———————————————--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he returned to the Tenth Division with the sleeping child wrapped tightly in his arms, Matsumoto was shocked yet relieved.

She grinned, bright and tearful, “You’re keeping her, Captain?” He stayed silent as he sat at his desk. Her grin widened and she rushed to pull papers out of her desk in excitement, “Good! ‘cause I didn’t want all my hard work to go to waste! I do all this paperwork for you for once and you were about to undo all of it! Sacrilege!” She placed the papers gently on the desk so as to not scare the child in his arms.

Adoption papers.

“The only thing it needs is her name and your signatures.” He looked up at her. Matsumoto knew him better than anyone, even better than himself sometimes, but the fact that she pulled all this together, touched him. The fact that she believed he could do this, that he could take care of a child while still technically being a child himself, while still holding the position, the responsibilities he had, was relieving. Her approval, her support, caused some of the weight to lift off his shoulders.

He was glad she was his Lieutenant. 

“I, of course, will be the godmother and the fun aunt, who will spoiler her and give her lots of sugar and toys before returning her, hyper and wild, back to you.” He lightly snorted and rolled his eyes, he expected that.

She squealed, jumping excitedly, the little girl in his lap moved at the sound, “I need to go shopping! She needs more clothes and furniture and decorations and toys. I’ll have to ask her what she wants, like color scheme and design.”

“She likes horses.” He said while continuing to go through and sign the papers in front of him.

“... I can run with that.” Matsumoto affirmed after a moment of thought. She stopped her excited jumping suddenly, causing him to look up. A serious expression was on her face, “So, what are you going to name her, Captain? I was thinking of Ayako since she’s so smart. Or Hayami for her beauty. Or…”

“Fuyuki.” She stopped as he spoke. “Her name is Fuyuki, Fuyuki Hitsugaya.” 

Fuyuki.

Winter’s hope.

His hope.

His salvation.

His entire world.


	4. In the Valley of Hironori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now the main story begins as they enter the Valley

Leaving Soul Society to go on a mission felt different this time. He had been on so many over the years that they all blended together, but this one felt… odd.

Maybe it’s because he had another captain coming with him, Ichigo Kurosaki, who had pretty much laughed in his face when Toshiro had told him he wasn’t coming. (“You think I’m gonna let you go blindly into a danger, with no back up, when we have no knowledge of what could occur?” He laughed, “and you still get on to me about invading Soul Society with two humans, a Quincy and a cat.” At this point in their… friendship, Toshiro knew better than to argue with him. Better to let him come along than to watch as he turns the realms into chaos trying to protect someone… again.)

Maybe it’s because, as Kurosaki pointed out, he had no knowledge, nor understanding nor timeline of how this mission would go. Just to go to the valley and follow the guiding star. That’s it. That’s all he knows. That’s all his granny would tell him or could tell him.

It’s because of the unknown timeline that Matsumoto was not with him as well, deeming it unnecessary for both heads of Division 10 to be missing for an unknown period of time to an unknown destination. Not having her at his side, watching his back, was yet another strange thing about this mission.

Or maybe it’s because he actually had someone to return for. 

Saying goodbye to his daughter was hard, especially when he had no answers for when he would be back. He made sure she knew that he  _ was _ coming back and when they did, they were going to go to the largest bookstore in the living world for her to pick out as many books as she wanted.

He shouldn’t have worried so much.

His daughter was intelligent. She knew this was his job and she knew that he would try his hardest to get back. He cared for her too much just as she cared for him. 

He would return, she had no doubt about that. Would he be injured or changed? Now, that was up for debate (and worry).

____________________________________________________________________________

They almost missed it. They almost missed the damn entrance to the Valley.

“ _ Master, there. Do you sense it? _ ”

Toshiro paused and reached his reishi out towards where Hyorinmaru was mentioning. The Valley of Hironori was a place almost between realms, between the cities that the guards had made, below the throne of the late Soul King, disguised as a sliver of swaying silver and blue. There was a strange energy around the swaying strand. Cold, airy, electric. 

It felt like the sky itself.

It felt like  _ home _ .

Toshiro shook his head,  _ No, home was back where he came from. With his daughter and his division. Not some strange sliver of energy.  _ The crack in space started to reach toward him, almost summoning him forward as he got closer to it. ( _ home, home, home, come home) _

“ _ I think it wants you to touch it, Master.” _

_ I am  _ **_not_ ** _ touching an unknown bundle of energy. _

Hyorinmaru hummed noncommittally in his mind. A few seconds passed with Toshiro staring at the string, studying it, watching it, as it swayed to and fro. It was almost hypnotizing, it’s dance, the pull of  _ home _ ( _ home, home, home, come home _ ) becoming more forceful as time went on. 

Toshiro knew he should look away, but he couldn’t. It was too late. He needed to touch the string, needed to see what secrets it held, what it could tell him, what it could give him.

_ Home, home, home, come home _

“ _ Go ahead, Master. I’ll be right with you.”  _ If Hyorinmaru was encouraging him, why was he even resisting? He could go  _ home _ now. 

_ Home, home, home, come home _

The rest of the group noticed that Toshiro wasn’t with them and turned back just as Toshiro touched the strand and disappeared, seemingly pulled into the band of energy.

“TOSHIRO!” Ichigo ran forward, reaching desperately for his friend, but it was too late. Far too late.

The strand had disappeared, taking the captain with it and all that was left behind was a single snowflake and a rumble through the sky. The snowflake stayed suspended in place right where the captain once stood. As Ichigo approached it, he could see images reflected in its depths. 

He could see Toshiro, looking just as whole and unharmed as when he left, standing up in a valley of green. Overlooking the valley was a large mountain, taller than any Ichigo had ever seen, it’s top hidden in the clouds and the rest covered in snow. Below the mountain, was a blue-green lake, calm and beautiful.

Toshiro was in the Valley of Hironori. Toshiro was  **_alone_ ** in the Valley of Hironori. 

“Damn it!”

————————————————————

_ Well, this certainly wasn’t the plan.  _ Toshiro thought as he looked around. The sense of  _ home _ was stronger here, in this strange place of green yet silence.

_ “We must continue on. Kurosaki and the others will find us.”  _ Toshiro snorted at his spirit’s words. If anyone could find him in this unknown world, it was Kurosaki and his relentless need to protect people. “ _ If not, we can always hold it over his head. I think his ego needs a little deflating, don’t you master?”  _

Toshiro almost let out a smile at that. Kurosaki’s fame had no end. It seemed as if every batch of new recruits tried everything to see or shake the hand of the Hero of the Realms. Kurosaki’s numerous attempts at avoiding said nuisances brought mirth and enjoyment to what was once a boring, repetitive task, especially for Toshiro, whom Kurosaki enjoyed roping into his escapades. 

The latest “plan” started with fireworks (courtesy of the Shiba clan), and somehow ended with Toshiro, Matsumoto, Kurosaki, Fuyuki, and about eight other shinigami all at a snow resort in the Alps for two weeks. Toshiro did grin this time as he remembered Kurosaki face planting in the snow after attempting to show off his snowboarding “skills”.

“ _ Master, you’re getting distracted.” _

Toshiro shook his head,  _ Apologies. This place… it’s strange.  _ He looked around at the plains of green and the mountain overlooking it,  _ I can’t help but feel relaxed here. It’s… intoxicating. _

_ “We need to keep moving then.” _

_ Agreed. _

After wandering towards the mountain through the plains of green, Toshiro came across a lake, its surface calm, barely a ripple on any part of it. It’s familiarity striking Toshiro.

_ Hyorinmaru, I’ve been here before, haven’t I? _

_ “No, not here.”  _ His short clipped answer took Toshiro back for a second. 

_ Hyorinmaru? _

“ _ We must keep moving forward. We must keep moving.” _

Toshiro started to go forward again as his unease of their situation rose at Hyorimaru’s answer, or rather his avoidance of the question. He was hiding something.

And that worried Toshiro more than anything else, but he knew better than to push his ancient companion. Hyorinmaru would tell him when he was ready.

  
  


Hopefully 

________________________________________________________________________

As the edge of the lake became clearer, Toshiro saw a woman kneeling in the grass. Her long white hair nearly blending in with the lake’s white stone edge. Then her image flickered, almost as if she wasn’t truly there, as she turned to look at him, smiling.  _ Her eyes are like mine,  _ Toshiro realized in shock. His eyes were unique as no one else he had ever met had his eye color, at least until now. 

“It’s good to finally meet you, Captain Toshiro Hitsugaya. I’ve been waiting for your arrival for a long time now.”

She spoke as if she knew him. Her familiarity as well as his previous unease caused the hair on the back of his neck to raise.  _ Something isn’t right here.  _ He drew his zanpakuto, pointing it at her heart, “Who are you?”

Smiling still, despite the sword aimed at her, she rose from where she had been sitting, “I am the Guardian Spirit of this Realm. I am here to guide you through your trials.”

“Trials? What trials?” He lowered his zanpakuto, slightly. If she moved even slightly to attack him, he would still be ready to strike.

“You want to protect the world, correct? You want to protect those you care about, those you are responsible for, those you love?” She paused briefly, “For that, you need knowledge, knowledge of how to reverse the Collapse and who you will need to do it. However, knowledge of this magnitude requires trials, requires sacrifice. Are you ready, Guardian of the Heavens? Are you ready to risk everything that you are, to protect those around you?”

“I am.”

Her smile turned almost sad, “Dive into the lake, Captain Hitsugaya, there’s a cave on the other side. Once you enter the cave, there is no going back. You will either die in the cave, or come out with the knowledge that you seek. I truly hope what you gain is worth what you will lose.”

With those parting words, she disappeared, leaving nothing behind.

_ Well, that wasn’t ominous.  _

____________________________________________________________________________

It was almost strange, wandering around these endless caves, with the sense of  _ home _ still running through his veins. There was no one here. No one but Toshiro and Hyorinmaru (who hadn’t said a word since Toshiro had entered the lake). 

It was almost strange, because in these dark caves lit by crystals of blues and greens, Toshiro almost felt free. He didn’t have to worry about someone watching him, judging his value with his every movement. He didn’t have anyone trying to undermine his authority, trying to find weakness in his position, a flaw in his orders. He didn’t have to stop himself from doing things he previously thought were under him. He didn’t have to stop his curiosity or his thirst for knowledge.

He didn’t have to stop himself from studying every crystal that he could, watching as their lights changed as he moved closer. 

_ This one is blue.  _ He took a step back,  _ now, it’s turquoise. It’s almost as if it can sense my presence as I approach.  _ He tilted his head,  _ or maybe it's the way the light is reflecting off the crystal changes as I get closer as the angle of my perception of the crystal changes. If I am correct, then crouching should change the color back to turquoise… nope. Still blue. Huh.  _

_ So, it's based on my presence. Is it my body heat or my reishi?  _

A flare from ahead, drew him back from his curiosity. _ Right, cave.  _ Toshiro stood up from where he had been studying the crystal and began to walk further into the cave,  _ now it’s green again. How strange.  _

_ ____________________________________________________________ _

_ There’s no one here,  _ He felt like he had been walking for hours. He probably had at this point as his internal clock had never failed him before. His curiosity about the crystals had long worn off and now he dreaded the sight of them. Another crystal just meant more walking,  _ where are these trials the guardian spirit spoke of? Where did she even go? Do these tunnels ever end? _

Toshiro rolled his eyes when he didn’t hear a response. Hyorinmaru still had not said a word. At first, Toshiro had panicked, not wanting to be separated from his zanpakuto spirit again, fearing that this was the loss the guardian spoke of, but he could still feel the dragon’s presence in his soul, could hear his wings move as he shifted in the back of his mind, could feel the cold winds of their shared realm just as strongly as before.

So now, Toshiro was just annoyed.

“And you call me a brat.” There was no response and he wasn’t expecting one, “You know, Kurosaki told me that the first sign of insanity was talking to one’s self. If I talk to you knowing I will get no response, does that count as talking to one’s self or more like talking to a wall?

“Although talking to a wall would probably be the same as talking to myself since a wall is an inanimate object, so I believe it would be more akin to talking to a bee or a fly. Something living but without the intelligence or ability to reply.” 

The mock of Hyorinmaru’s intellect did not go unnoticed by the ice dragon as Toshiro felt their shared world grow colder, but still, he received no reply. Not even a smack on the head for his imprudence.

If he were back in Soul Society, this would worry him, as he always valued Hyorinmaru’s guidance and wisdom when it came to leading his division and was always proud of how their bond was unwavering and strong. He would normally give Hyorinmaru space for a time then join him in their shared world to discuss what was bothering the ice dragon, where Toshiro had mis-stepped, or train until Hyorinmaru was no longer feeling restless.

Now…

Now, he was annoyed. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to do the things he usually did, but every time Toshiro tried to enter his inner world, Hyorinmaru would block him. At first, he reasoned it was because the ice dragon wanted him to focus on moving forward rather than what was going on. But now, Hyorinmaru was going to have to come out to him if they were going to fix whatever was going on between them. 

_ However, this was going very boring with no one to talk to.  _ He glared at the next crystal as it’s glow began to light up the area he was approaching.

_____________________________________________________________________

_ So, the crystals are definitely reacting to my reishi. _ Toshiro thought as he sent a burst of his own into a crystal causing it to glow white before exploding into dust. Its light remained as scattered dust on the ground, slowly fading back into its ever changing blues and greens then fading away.

It was beautiful, the explosions, like ice breaking into stardust. Toshiro also found that due to it being exploded by his reishi, the residue made it where he could control the dust, collecting it, bending it, shaping it. It was similar to Matsumoto’s zanpakuto but he could not cut or burn with it as hers could, but rather he could use it to make walls and weapons just like when he pulled moisture from the air to form ice. 

He didn’t even need to draw his zanpakuto to do so, just use simple reishi manipulation.

_ It’s almost like using kido,  _ he thought as he exploded yet another crystal, collecting the white dust before it turned blue and unusable.  _ Except kido is blocked here, I guess they didn’t want me to destroy the mountain in frustration.  _ He directed the glowing white dust around his body, making it circle him like a ring.

_ “If you like it then you should have put a ring on it!”  _

The dust dropped as Toshiro shook his head, he really needed to stop Matsumoto from playing strange music in their office… and Kurosaki… and Hinamori… 

_ Well,  _ he sighed,  _ that would be rather lonely wouldn’t it, if I were to stop them from listening to weird music. They wouldn’t want to be around as much if I restricted what they could or couldn’t do in my office.  _ He truly didn’t mind having people visit him while he was working as long as he was able to keep focused. He found doing work while his daughter played or while Matsumoto read her magazines, very relaxing and comforting. 

_ As if anyone would willingly be around him,  _ He kicked a crystal that hadn’t completely exploded, one of his earlier attempts. It was broken. Not dust, yet not whole. Just broken,  _ besides his daughter of course, although sometimes he wonders if it was because she didn’t know any better.  _

He picked the crystal up,  _ no one wants what is broken, after all, no one wants what can never be made whole.  _ He gathered what dust he could, trying to fix the crystal he had shattered.

The dust formed and shaped around the broken crystal, returning it to its previous state, just like Toshiro’s unfailing memory remembered it being. 

But it wasn’t complete. There were cracks going through it. It was still broken. He broke it. He caused this. It was his fault. 

He reached for more dust but it was blue and green and unusable. His only choice was to break another crystal if he wanted to fix the crystal in his hand, but there was none around him, he had shattered them all without thinking.

He had broken too many crystals, he had made too many mistakes and now it was becoming too dark to see.  _ It was his fault. _

_ Hyorinmaru? What do I do?  _ He reached out, hoping against hope, with no response.

He was alone. 

The dust faded to nothing.

He was alone. There was no one to judge him. No one to hold him down. No one to help him. No one to guide him.

He was alone.

Suddenly, the cave got even darker, his only light source being the crystal in his hand, broken like he was and small like he used to be. 

Such a weight on its shoulders for one so small.

____________________________________________________________________________

“You know Toshiro, if you were even smaller, I could fit you into my bag and just carry you to class.” Toshiro threw brush at his friend, who started laughing, “You’d probably be lighter than my textbooks at any rate,” Kusaka grinned at him, teasingly. 

“Say one more thing about my height and I’ll show you why I’m number one in our class.” Toshiro glared at him, already having armed himself with another brush. 

Kusaka’s grin grew as he leaned closer to the outraged boy across the table in front of him, “You. Are. Short.” He ducked as the brush flew at his face and glanced off the top of his head. He grabbed his brush and threw it at Toshiro as his friend launched another one at his face.

He laughed as his brush left a black streak in his best friend’s startling white hair. Toshiro blinked owlishly in shock as he felt the ink drip down his neck and into his uniform. His expression changed quickly as he armed himself with another brush, this time completely covered in ink, “You’re gonna pay for that.”

______________________________________________________________________

Toshiro smiled sadly at the thought of his old best friend. That ink fight got them kicked out of the library for two weeks and in detention for four but it was one of his fondest memories. Kusaka was long at rest now, maybe reincarnated at this point, but Toshiro had no way of knowing. 

He had been alone at the academy too, his intelligence and age separating him from others. He intimidated them, scared them. So he pushed himself to graduate as soon as he could, to get out of there as soon as he could.

Kusaka changed that. Their meeting in the library changed that. He had been Toshiro’s light in the darkness that was his academy days.

_ “Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” _

Toshiro grinned as he heard Kurosaki’s voice. Kurosaki would sometimes read to Fuyuki in his office while Toshiro was working. Harry Potter was one of her favorite series. It was both of theirs, too. It seemed as if Kurosaki was in his office a lot more nowadays, filling the room with soft music from his Ipod, low voices when speaking to Matsumoto or reading to Fuyuki, or pen scratching when he joined in on the mountain of paperwork on Toshiro’s desk.

Maybe, he’s not as alone as he thought. 

_ “Captainn~~ You’ll never guess what I bought you!” _

_ “Hey, Tosh, so there’s a soccer game this Saturday and I really need to practice, so you’re coming over this week or I’ll kick your ass.” _

_ “Captain!’ _

_ “Hey, Toshiro! So, I was thinking of escaping to Africa this time and you’re coming with me. There’s going to be elephants and lions and it may be hot but we’ll figure that out later.” _

_ “I will always be with you, Master, as long as there are stars in the sky.” _

_ “Daddy!”  _ He could almost see his daughter grinning as she ran towards him. Long gone were the days of her being constantly by his side. Now, she would spend some time with Matsumoto or Kurosaki or Hinamori, but every time he would come to pick her up, it was always the same blinding and loving smile.

He may be broken, like the crystal in his hand, but he was no longer alone, he has a reason to return now, a reason to keep moving forward. After all, he has people waiting for him, people who cared for him. A lieutenant who saved him, an orange-haired idiot who supported him, and a little girl who chose him. His division still needed him too. For who knows what ruin it’ll be in after being under Matsumoto’s control.

He sent a small burst of his reishi into the crystal, enough for it to light up the cave, but not enough to cause it to explode.

_ Time to move forward so I can go home. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the wall to his right collapsed. Bright light streamed in as a room opened up. In the middle of the room was the Guardian of the Valley sitting on the side of a fountain, her seemingly endless light blue furisode swaying in the slight breeze.

“I see you have passed your first trial, the Trial of Loneliness.” She smiled, “Are you ready to continue?”

He stepped forward into the light, crystal held tightly in his fist, “I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... I gave him lights so he could see... and he ran with it...
> 
> I swear I didn't write that entire part... Toshiro did...
> 
> Serious Icy Captain + Magical color changing lights = cat
> 
> This trial was more symbolic than anything. He passed because without any outside influence guiding him, despite having been walking for hours with no end in sight, despite things seeming hopeless, despite him basically being alone, Toshiro chose to move forward of his own volition.


	5. The Trials Continue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toshiro goes through more trials and we finally hear from Ichigo and what he's been doing this whole time

Toshiro didn’t know what to think of these trials as he stepped into the room containing his fourth trial. At first, he thought they would be physical trials or general overcoming of his fears or issues, like the first trial and the third, the Trial of the Arctic, where he had to learn to control his reishi to the point where he didn’t get overheated in the summer but didn’t freeze everyone in the winter. The seasons changed rapidly in the trial from winter to spring to summer, each passage of time was different and each season varied in intensity. 

He now had his reishi so finely tuned that at the slightest increase of temperature he could lower the air around his body to keep himself cool while not changing the atmosphere around him. It took him longer than he was willing to admit, but he overcame it.

The second trial, however, was different. There was no overcoming, just desperation and learning. The second trial was the trial of protection and he was horrified by what he learned.

Horrified by what he gained.

—————————————————

“RUN, FUYUKI!” He shouted. He could see her, frozen in fear. She was so close, so close to him, so close to safety.

But  _ he _ was closer.

Aizen. He didn’t want to believe that they were here but it seemed so real, his daughter’s face seemed so scared, he didn’t want to risk it.

Toshiro tried to draw his zanpakuto but it wouldn’t move, his sword seemingly stuck in its casing. He tried harder to retch it out only for it to sling off his back, tearing the strap holding it to his shoulder, and nearly slipping out of his hands while still encased in its sheath, useless.

As he struggled, Aizen walked even more closer to his daughter. 

Toshiro tried to use kido but just as it was in the cave, he could not summon a single spell. He reached out, trying to find something, anything he could use. Searching for a crystal to explode or water to use as a shield, as Aizen raised his sword above his head, aiming for the terrified girl in front of him.

_ Water, please. I just need a little bit of water. _ But there was none, not even in the atmosphere. Toshiro dropped his sword and continued to run, putting all his strength into this one sprint, all the while reaching for anything, something.  _ A crystal, a droplet, a teardrop, sweat, anything! _

He wasn’t going to make it, his eyes widened in horror. He wasn’t going to save her, he was going to fail. Fail this trial, fail her,  _ please I just need something! I just need… _

_ WATER! _

He skidded to a stop as he felt it. There was water. He could sense it. He closed his eyes focusing completely on the source and reached out his hand towards it, grabbing it with tightly clenched fists before slamming it into Aizen and tossing him to the side. 

Toshiro opened his eyes and to his confusion, there was nothing there. There was no water or crystal. There was nothing. He was controlling nothing and yet, Aizen had moved. He had been knocked five feet to the ground. But there was nothing there.

As he raised his fist, still tightly clenched around the source, he gasped in horror as Aizen himself rose with it.

He was wrong. 

There was something there he could control.

There was blood.

He was controlling Aizen’s blood. 

He was controlling the  _ water _ in Aizen’s blood.

_ Hyorinmaru, what did I just do? _

_ __________________________________________________________________________ _

Something was wrong. 

Ichigo looked closer at the snowflake shaped screen. He had refused when the guards had told him to return to Soul Society. He was going to wait however long it took for Toshiro to get back. He told him he would watch his back, he just didn’t know it was going to be literally.

Watching Toshiro go through these trials was, honestly, a roller coaster of emotions, especially since he seemed to be going through them alone. Ichigo didn’t know what happened but it seemed as if Hyorinmaru was either being blocked or just wasn’t helping Toshiro (which was strange considering what he knew of their relationship). 

The first trial was rather humorous, watching as Toshiro bobbed up and down staring at the crystals in the cave, watching them change colors. Ichigo outright laughed when he started to explode them.  _ And he calls me unnecessarily violent.  _ He shook his head, still chuckling. He found Toshiro’s new found freedom to explore and wonder absolutely adorable. He could practically watch the gears whirling in the genius captain’s head as he studied the lights at all different angles and distances. Watching as his teal eyes widened when the crystals exploded for the first time, Ichigo couldn’t keep the grin off his face. 

But when it started to get dark, that’s when Ichigo started to get worried. He could see the sadness and almost desperation start to develop in Toshiro’s eyes and in the crease on his forehead as he tried to repair one of the remaining crystals. He watched as Toshiro tried and tried again to make it whole again as it got darker and darker in the cave. Ichigo tried to reach out with his reishi but the snowflake wouldn’t let it go through. 

Then Toshiro smiled and Ichigo let out a sigh of relief, knowing he was going to be okay.

In the second trial, Ichigo never wanted to hug someone more than in the moment Toshiro found out he could bloodbend. He had yelled and shouted and threatened with Toshiro as Aizen got closer to sweet, little Fuyuki, his own reishi flaring, threatening, powerful and useless. He had felt useless before but never has he been so trapped in his unnecessity. He was an unwilling bystander, wanting no more than to be by Toshiro's side than to be on the side lines. 

_ Oh, shit.  _

That was the only thing Ichigo thought when he saw Toshiro slam Aizen into the ground by the same blood that was flowing through his veins. The absolute astonishment that someone could control something, control something like that, was impressive. Ichigo figured he should be more horrified by this power, but it was  _ Toshiro _ wielding it. 

The same Toshiro who would rather give up his power than to kill his best friend. The same Toshiro who had the ability to kill an enemy and refused because the attack would have hurt his allies as well. The same Toshiro who lived in a house so far away that he had to shunpo to work every morning so he wouldn’t harm people with his reishi in his sleep.

This was  _ Toshiro.  _ The mere thought of  _ Toshiro  _ using this power against even his worst enemy was laughable. He would  _ never _ use his power to take away the will of others, this Ichigo was certain of.

But watching the terrified horror fill Toshiro’s face, made Ichigo wish it had been anyone else. Ichigo would face a thousand Aizens and a thousand Yhwachs if it meant that look of absolute self loathing never crossed Toshiro’s face. 

“It’s okay, Toshiro.” He whispered, hoping that Toshiro could at least feel his reassurance through the crystal, “It’s not your fault. You would  _ neve _ r willingly use this power, I know it. It’s okay. You’re still Toshiro, you’re still Tosh to me. That will never change.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The third trial was long but Ichigo watched every second that Toshiro spent training his reishi to withstand the changing seasons. He cheered loudly as Toshiro completed the trial, pumping his fist in the air in excitement. He grinned at Ichibē, a slight blush on his face when he remembered that the man was still there.

As the fourth one began, Ichigo hoped this one would be a good one, an easy one, like the last one. 

...and then the shades appeared. 

Ichigo recognized some of them (Kusaka, Ukitake, Unohana, Yamamoto, ...) but others he never knew. 

But Toshiro did.

Soul King above, Toshiro did. 

Ichigo could feel tears rolling down his face as he watched Toshiro face the fourth trial, the trial of lamination, of death and grief. He refused to wipe the tears away in case he missed something. He was going to support Toshiro through this, even if Toshiro didn’t know he was there, even if it hurt so badly to watch. 

He was going to be here. He was going to watch Toshiro’s back.

He  _ promised _ .

And Ichigo never breaks his promises. Never. Especially not to Toshiro, who trusted so hesitantly, so paranoid and scared of hurting others, of being hurt himself. However, when you have gained that trust, he lets you into his entire world. A world of knowledge and support and unending loyalty. A world of tightly controlled power, hidden kindness and a protectiveness that could move mountains.

Ichigo has seen that world, has been a part of it for many years, and so he was not moving.

He was not breaking his promise.

_ I’m here, Toshiro. I’m here. _

________________________________________________________________

Something was wrong. 

Ichigo looked closer at the snowflake shaped screen.

Something was wrong.

Toshiro was frozen, eyes widened in horror and terror. 

Something was wrong.

Toshiro was looking at nothing. He was frozen in horror looking at nothing.

“Something’s wrong.” Ichigo looked everywhere in the room, trying to see what Toshiro was so horrified by. Something. Anything. He couldn’t sense anything but he never had been able to with these trials. 

Something was wrong.

Then Toshiro screamed, a heartbreaking cry, full of sorrow and fear, with no words to make out.

And then the world imploded.

“TOSHIRO!” Ichigo had never been that desperate to be on the other side of the screen, watching as a blizzard formed in the room, destructive, frantic and terrible. His friend lost in the blizzard, in his own mind, in his own horror at what he was seeing.

To Ichigo’s horror, the blizzard wasn’t attacking something he couldn’t see, couldn’t sense, or couldn’t hear.

It was attacking the one who was controlling it.

“TOSHIRO! STOP!” Ichigo sent as much of his reishi as he could into the crystal, trying desperately to reach the other side, to reach the man whose powers were turning against him, shredding his clothes and skin to pieces.

Toshiro was crying. Never in these trials had Toshiro cried, but he was out right sobbing. He wasn’t even trying to protect himself from the onslaught of the blizzard. He was sobbing, hands clenched to his hair, pulling and tearing, whispering words over and over.

“No, please, no. Stop, stop, please. I’m sorry! Please, stop. Matsumoto, please. Run. I’m sorry! Please. Momo! Granny! Please. Stop. Stop. Stop hurting them!”

Realization struck Ichigo. Toshiro wasn’t being attacked by his uncontrolled powers. He was trying to stop his powers from hurting the people he was seeing, from hurting the people in an illusion.

By turning his powers against himself.

He was going to destroy himself before the illusion powers could hurt anyone else.

“TOSHIRO! STOP! IT ISN’T REAL!” He banged his fist against the snowflake, “IT ISN’T REAL!” In one final act of desperation, Ichigo pushed all his reishi into his fist before slamming against the snowflake shaped display.

And then watched in horror as it shattered.

__________________________________________________________________________

He couldn’t watch anymore. He couldn’t watch as his powers tore apart everything and everyone he ever loved, ever cared for, ever promised to protect.

Matsumoto was in frozen pieces to his left, his granny an icicle of horror and fear in front of him and his men scattered every which way in varied states of freezing, screaming, shouting, and pleading.

His greatest fear and his constant nightmare being shoved in his face over and over and over. And he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t watch, but didn’t feel he had the right to look away. He barely felt the blizzard tearing into his skin, could barely feel anything over the overwhelming need to stop! Stop! Please stop!

The screams, the wind, the shouts, the cold, the...

“TOSHIRO!” He felt hands on his arms, trying to pull them away from his hair, away from his face. 

He knew that voice.

“NO! Get away! Get away from me!” He shouted as he panicked. He couldn’t hurt him. Not him. 

Not Kurosaki.

“GET AWAY!”

Not Kurosaki, who had helped him with Kusaka. Who understood him and didn’t judge him for wanting to fix everything, fix himself ( _ his mistake, his mistake, his fault _ ). Who helped him realize he didn’t have to do everything by himself for once. Not Kurosaki who told him that he was there if he ever needed someone to lean on, to rant to or to fight with just for the sake of fighting.

Not Kurosaki who never looked down on him. Who never judged him for being a child captain. Who never disrespected him. Who only wanted to be his friend, to be there for him, to care for him and support him. (“No, you’re Toshiro to me, because I don’t call my friends by their family name.” “Need a hand, Tosh?”)

Not Kurosaki who helped him when he panicked at having a child. Who was there with advice (“I have two younger sisters, remember?”) and a helping hand when Toshiro got frustrated or didn’t know what to do. Not Kurosaki who told him it’s okay to mess up, that no one was a perfect parent. Who watched his daughter when he just needed a break (“Take care of yourself, Tosh,” He smiled, bright and gentle, “We’ll be here when you get back.”)

Not Kurosaki, who would spend hours in his office just talking with him as he worked on the endless paperwork on a Saturday. (“Did you hear about what happened in Division 12? Apparently…”) Who randomly made it his mission to cheer Toshiro up when he was having a bad week. (“I promise by the end of the day, I’m gonna make you laugh. Just you watch.”) Not Kurosaki who would randomly pop by his office just to drop off something. (“I found this trinket and it reminded me of you and if you don’t want it, that’s fine because I only got it to show you and…”) 

Not Kurosaki, who Toshiro cared so much for, looked so much up to. 

Not Kurosaki, who slammed through every one of Toshiro’s walls like they were glass instead of hard, bitter ice.

Not Kurosaki, who was slowly becoming one of the few people Toshiro would destroy the realms (and himself) to protect.

Not Kurosaki. More tears streamed down his face.

Not Kurosaki. He felt like screaming.

Not Kurosaki. Maybe he already was.

_ Not Ichigo.  _

“TOSHIRO! It’s not real! Open your eyes! It’s not real!” The hands that had been pulling at his arms stopped and wrapped around him tightly, warm and protective. He felt his head hit a chest, heard a heartbeat, quickened but calming. He felt breathing on his ear as the words were repeated gently to him, “It’s not real, Tosh. It’s not real. It’s okay. You’re not hurting anyone. I’m okay. You’re okay. Matsumoto is okay. Your division is okay. Everyone is okay. You need to breathe, Toshiro. You’re okay.”

“Breath with me now. In,” the voice said soothingly as the chest took a deep breath, its heartbeat slowing to a normal rhythm. Toshiro tried to follow shakily. “Out. Very good. You’re okay. Everyone is okay. Just keep breathing, nice and slow. You’re okay.” 

He breathed, listening to the instructions, he did nothing but focus on his breathing and the heartbeat so close to his ear. In and out. Ba bum, ba bum, ba bum. In and out. Ba bum, ba bum, ba bum. In and out. 

His breathing returned to normal and his pulse slowed. The wind stopped, the blizzard turned into a lazy snowfall. The cold resided and the world heated back up, but all Toshiro could register was in and out, ba bum, ba bum, ba bum. In and out. Ba bum, ba bum, ba bum.

“There you go, Tosh. Can you open your eyes and look at me?” He followed the voice’s instructions, looking up into worried brown eyes only a few inches from his own. Brown eyes that he’s seen so many times over the years, in pain, in grief, in joy, in laughter. 

He knows those eyes. He knows those eyes almost as well as he knows his own. He knows he can trust those eyes. He knows when he sees those eyes, he is safe. He feels the tension leave his body as he keeps staring at those eyes.

He knows he loves those eyes, loves seeing them warm and chocolatey, loves seeing them lit up in excitement when their owner rants about a book or movie or anything in general. Loves seeing the eyes sparkle when he sees someone he cares about (Rukia, Abarai, Fuyuki… and him). 

Those eyes cared for him.

No

He remembers all the times he’s seen those eyes. He remembers the escapades, the visits to his office, the adventures to the living world. He remembers all the nights those eyes read his daughter (his precious hatchling) to sleep. All the days those eyes would watch her when his work got too high. He remembers those eyes as they cooked breakfast on a Saturday when Toshiro just wanted to be lazy. He remembers those eyes dancing as he sang to a song on the radio and tried to get Toshiro to join him for a dance. He remembers those eyes lighting up during a snowball fight, remembers the joy, the excitement, the love.

He...

(...he blames oxygen deprivation.)

“See, we’re oka…” Lips interrupted his sentence. Ichigo’s eyes widened as he processed his situation. 

(Toshiro seriously blames oxygen deprivation) 

He pressed his lips to Ichigo’s as his mind was clearing, relief and gratitude flowing through him for this man in front of him, who never gave up on him, never abandoned him, who loved him. He wrapped his arms around his neck as Ichigo started responding, lips moving, arms wrapping tighter around Toshiro’s waist. 

Why hadn’t he done this before? 

(He seriously wants to thank oxygen deprivation)

Their teeth clashed and noses bumped into each other, but Toshiro didn’t care. He was okay. They were okay. Everyone was okay. 

He never lost control and, as his hands ran through Ichigo’s hair, he never will. He will never allow himself to hurt someone he cared about, someone he loves. He had that power now, he had that control. His fear slipped from his shoulders as Ichigo’s tongue swiped across his lips asking for permission to enter.

_ I will never be a weapon for someone else’s use again. _

  
  
  
  
  


“You have passed the Trial of Control.”

_...and  _ you _ have interrupted.  _ Toshiro thought as they broke apart, glaring at the Spirit. He was less angry about her interruption (maybe a little more than he was willing to admit) and more so about the trials.

What was the point in all this?? Why make him go through all this pain and suffering just for the knowledge of how to save the realm from falling apart? Why him? Why did it have to be him?

And why the hell was Ichigo here? Would he have to go through these trials too? Have to go through this Hell too?

No. That was not fucking happening. Not after everything that just happened. Not after everything Toshiro just realized, not after realizing how much he would lose.

“Send him back.”

“No!” Ichigo swung to look at him, resolute determination flashing in his eyes, “Absolutely not! I told you I was facing whatever was out here with you.”

“You don’t understand what these trials are about!”

“I do know what they’re about! I’ve been watching the whole time!” 

Toshiro froze, he hadn’t been expecting that.

“When you disappeared, a crystal snowflake was left behind and I could see and hear everything that was going on in here. I have been with you the entire time, watching your back, even if you couldn’t see it and I’m going to continue doing it.”

“If you have seen my trials then you know why you cannot be here.”

“You don’t think I can do this? That I can’t watch your back?”

“No.” He crossed his arms against his chest, “I can’t risk it.”

“Risk what? Me screwing it up?”

“No.”

“Risk me making a mess of everything again?”

“No.”

“Risk me seeing you lose control again?”

“...”

“Then what Toshiro? What are you so afraid of risking?”

There was silence.

“...you. I can’t risk you.” Ichigo froze, eyes wide. Toshiro shuffled his weight and hid his shaking hands in his ruined sleeves, “...you’ve seen my trials. You’ve seen my weaknesses, my fears. And these trials are only getting worse. I don’t know what’s ahead and I won’t lose another person I care about, not now. Not after everything. I won’t lose you…” He looked down, scared in admitting his weakness for the man in front of him, “... I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t.” Toshiro looked up, “You won’t lose me, I promise you. I promise you, we will make it out of here and I promise you, we will do it  _ together _ . You said that I never break my promises, remember? Well, I’m certainly not going to break this one.”

“...I’ll kick your ass if you do.”

Ichigo laughed and kissed him on the forehead, still chuckling, before turning to face the spirit of the Valley, who Toshiro had forgotten about 

(he blames oxygen deprivation. 

“ _ You can’t blame everything on oxygen deprivation forever, Master.”  _ Hyorinmaru chuckled in his head.

_ Watch me.  _ He glared at the dragon.  _ So, someone has decided to talk again? _ He asked to which he received no answer.)

The guardian was still floating there softly, a gentle breeze causing her endless furisode to sway gently, making the clouds on it seem like they were moving. 

Maybe they were, she was a guardian spirit after all. Not much was known about them.

She was smiling gently at them, at peace as always. Her green eyes had been looking towards the mountain in a façade of privacy. 

There was no privacy in this realm. Everything was seen by her, controlled by her, whoever she actually was.

“We would like to continue.”

She turned back to them, still continuing to smile, “You know what to do, I hope what you learn is worth what you lose.” With that, just like the previous trials, she disappeared.

Toshiro took a deep breath as a door opened. He felt something take his hand and followed the appendage to see Ichigo smiling at him, “I’ve got your back, Tosh.”

Toshiro closed his eyes to ready himself, wiping away the emotions of the last trial and clearing his mind for what was ahead.

He nodded, then he opened his eyes and took his first step forward, Ichigo following in step with him.

_ Trial Six.  _

Toshiro felt an almost finality at the thought of this trial. Maybe this was the end, maybe this was the last trial. 

_ Whatever it is, I will face it.  _ He looked at Ichigo, who looked just as determined to finish this as he was. We  _ will face it.  _

_ Together. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


	6. What He Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sixth trial begins... Is this the end? Or just merely the beginning?

Toshiro had braced himself for anything, death, decay, torture. He held on to Ichigo’s hand tightly while expecting the worst. 

What he wasn’t expecting was a rock. 

A pointed rock that almost looked like an axe head coming out of the ground. He looked at Ichigo in confusion, who looked just as lost as he did as he shrugged his shoulders.

_ What am I supposed to do with a rock? _

_ “You sacrifice with it.” _

…

_ WHAT?! _

_ “The stone is a ceremonial sacrificial monument that was used before the Seireitei even existed. People would use it to sacrifice souls, animals, hollows, anything to honor their gods or the Soul King.” _

_...How do you know all this? _

_ “...because it is my fate.” _

__________________________________________________________________________

“NO!” Toshiro ripped his hand out of Ichigo’s. When he turned to look at him, he was pacing, panicking and seemed to be arguing with Hyorinmaru. He patiently waited for him to finish his conversation with the spirit in his soul, anxiety rising when his pacing got quicker, his face scrunched up more, and his breathing became faster.

Then he stopped, facing away from Ichigo, away from the rock and ran his hand through his hair, shoulder’s shaking, “...okay.” It was so quiet, Ichigo almost didn’t hear it, the small vulnerable voice.

It sent Ichigo’s protective instincts into overdrive. Toshiro wasn’t supposed to be vulnerable. Toshiro doesn’t  _ do _ vulnerable. Even earlier when he was sobbing and scared, he wasn’t vulnerable. He could still whip around and blast any enemy off their feet, could still freeze them with a wave of his hand, impale them with a stroke of his sword and do it all with tears streaming down his face and a scream in his throat. Toshiro wasn’t supposed to be vulnerable.

But he was. 

“Tosh?” His face when he looked at him was dead. Ichigo’s worry mounted even further as Toshiro walked almost in a trance towards the rock, his face never changing, his eyes just as depressed as before, not a word slipping out of his mouth.

It was as if whatever argument Toshiro had had with his zanpakuto spirit had drained all life from the captain. He looked  _ vulnerable.  _ He looked  _ defeated. _

Ichigo was apprehensive as Toshiro stopped in front of the rock, a sad determination held on his face, depression in the slump of his shoulder, and defeat screaming from his reishi.

_______________________________________________________________________   
  


_ “I will always be with you, Master, as long as there are stars in the sky.” _

_ Not anymore.  _ He refused to cry. Hyorinmaru told him to not have any tears. That he was  _ proud  _ of him. That he was  _ proud _ to have stood by his side. That he was  _ proud _ to have this role.

_ “Always.” _

He was going to honor his friend, his first friend, his only companion for so long, by keeping his final wish.

“ _ I want this. This is my choice. I want you to become the best being in the universe. I have given you all my knowledge, all my powers. You no longer need me.” _

_ I always need you. _

_ “No, you want me to be by your side, but you no longer need me to be. You chose to move forward in the darkness, to learn in the face of danger, to never be a weapon of someone else’s doing. You chose to never control another being’s will, body, or soul. You chose to accept the role of death in your life, and to let go of those who are gone. You made these decisions on your own, with no one to help you, no one to guide you. _

_ “Now it’s time to let go of me. I am the only thing holding you back now.” _

_ I can’t do that. _

_ “Yes you can. You are stronger than you believe. I have watched over you since you were a child and I couldn’t be prouder. I am proud of your strength, your resilience, your resolve. I have guided you as far as I can. Now, I will be the last key to moving forward.” _

_ I can’t lose you. _

_ “I will always be with you, Master, just as the others are always with you. No tears, Master. I want this, I want you to be set free.” _

_ I can’t do that. _

_ “Master, let me go.” _

Toshiro stood shaking in front of the rock, holding back tears. He didn’t want to do this. 

“ _ Then we will both die here.”  _

The Guardian of the Valley’s voice repeated her warning in his head, “ You will either die in the cave, or come out with the knowledge that you seek.”

_ “Too many people rely on you for you to die here. If you die, your men will die, Matsumoto will die, Ichigo will die, Fuyuki will die.” _

Toshiro’s eyes watered as he realized the truth in the statement, his lips trembled so badly he had to bite them to keep them closed, whimpers escaping every once in a while.

_ “No tears, Master. This is not goodbye, just merely the beginning.” _

_ _________________________________________________________________________ _

Ichigo watched closely, looking for any sign that he needed to step in. He didn’t want to interfere with Toshiro’s conversation with his zanpakuto, felt he didn’t have the right to. When he heard Toshiro whimpering, he reached out towards him and went to take a step forward.

“ _ Wait.”  _ Zangestu’s voice caused him to pause, “ _ You cannot interfere. This is their choice. You cannot interfere.” _

_ But Toshiro is in pain. I told him I would be with him every step of the way. _

_ “You will be. Just be patient. You will know when you can interfere, believe me, you will know.”  _ After years of finally working together with his zanpakuto, finally understanding the spirit in his soul, Ichigo knew to trust his instincts, even if every inch of his heart was telling him to do otherwise.

__________________________________________________________________________

Toshiro took his zanpakuto out of its sheath, sliding out easier than it had for the entirety of the trials, its frayed sash falling limp around Toshiro’s shoulders. Toshiro looked down at the sword that had been at his side for centuries, seeming to almost attempt to memorize how it looked just one last time.

Hyorinmaru had been with him since he was a child, a lonely scared child, with reishi he could not control and a village at his heels, biting and tearing at his skin. He had been with him since he was going through the academy, just as lonely but learning slowly to not be as scared, control slowly being gained over his enormous reishi. He had been with him when Kusaka was murdered, when he became a shinigami, when his captain left, when he became a captain himself.

The spirit had been there through every war, every rebellion, every heartbreak, every betrayal. Every accomplishment, every achievement, every discovery, every victory. Every moment in Toshiro’s life, the zanpakuto had been there even when no one else was.

And with one stroke of Toshiro’s arm, it shattered on the rock in front of him.

The sixth trial, the trial of sacrifice.

____________________________________________________________________________

“Toshiro!” Ichigo ran forward when Toshiro collapsed. Panic coursing through his veins after he saw Hyorinmaru shatter on the rock. If Zangestu tried to stop him from going forward now, Ichigo was going to punch him.

“Toshiro…” He was curled on his side, wrapped tightly around the hilt of the broken sword that was slowly dissolving into blue light. No tears escaped his eyes, but his breathing was hitched and blood was dripping from his lips from biting them too hard, “Oh, Toshiro..”

Ichigo wrapped the trembling captain in his arms and pulled him onto his lap. He held him tightly as the white haired teen finally broke down. “I’m so sorry, Toshiro. I’m so sorry.”

____________________________________________________________________________

Hell.

Toshiro had never been there, had only felt a glimpse of it when the Hell gates were broken, but if he were to guess what Hell felt like, it was this.

Absolute shooting agony. 

He knew what it was like to have his bankai stolen from him, he knew what it was like to feel Hyorinmaru’s spirit disappear from their shared world but this…

This was  _ agony. _

This was  _ pain. _

This was  _ torture. _

This was his  _ soul _ being split into pieces.

When he said he was ready to sacrifice every part of himself to save the world, to save the ones he cared about, the ones he loved, he didn’t know it would be  _ Hyorinmaru _ .

“You have passed the Sixth Trial, the Trial of Sacrifice.”

____________________________________________________________________________

Blind rage overcame Ichigo. He stood up, still carrying the tortured captain in his arms, and faced the spirit.

Fuck this. Fuck these trials. Fuck the world. Fuck this Spirit.

“Get. OUT!” He growled at her.

She turned her sad teal eyes towards him, “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. It was not my choice.” 

“I said,” He growled louder, his hollow mask appearing on half of his face as his protective instincts and fury rose. Zangestu growled with him in his mind, their need to protect the being in his arms his only focus, “Get.  **Out** . Better yet, let us out. We are  **done** here.” He moved Toshiro so that he was cradled by one arm and reached for Zangestu, staring at her threateningly.

She sighed, sad and relenting, “Take this with you.” She held out a little wooden box, “It is what he will need.”

Ichigo snatched the box out of her hands. As soon as he made contact with the box, the world shifted. Blues and greens overcame his senses and before he knew it, they were right back in the Soul Palace, right where Toshiro had disappeared, right where he had punched the snowflake into dust.

It felt like an eternity ago.

He looked down at Toshiro who had passed out in his arms, still shaking with the pain Ichigo was sure was still coursing through his veins. Hyorinmaru’s hilt was gone. Toshiro’s clothes were ruined, his captain’s cloak barely holding on to his shoulders. He looked nothing like the captain that had started these trials.

_ I’m not even sure if he is a captain anymore, _ Ichigo looked at him, sadly,  _ another thing he’s lost in this quest to fix the world.  _

The trials were done.

They were going home. Ichigo adjusted Toshiro in his arms, nodded at  Ichibē, then dropped off the edge.

They were going  _ home. _


	7. The Final Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo and Toshiro return to Soul Society, but what’s in the box?

Toshiro spent four weeks in Division Four. Most of it he spent asleep, barely waking for moments at a time. Even when his daughter entered the room, scared and crying, he could barely open his eyes. 

A minute didn’t go by without someone being in Toshiro’s room. Ichigo, Fuyuki and Matsumoto being his most constant visitors, having set up a schedule so that the teen wouldn’t wake up alone. With the state of his soul, Isane told them that there was a chance he would never have the energy to wake up for more than five minutes at a time and that this could possibly be his life for the rest of his time in Soul Society.

Death almost seemed to be a mercy.

Still, the three waited. They ran their respective divisions in the hospital room, giving orders, filling paperwork, organizing patrols. Ichigo took it upon himself to take care of his lover’s(? Boyfriend? He didn’t know what they were. They never had a chance to talk about it) daughter.

Fuyuki was reverting back to how she was during the first couple weeks after Toshiro first found her. She clenched onto Toshiro’s hand, curled into his side as he slept. She stopped speaking again, her blue eyes sad and scared. Scared for her dad, scared for herself, scared for their future.

Ichigo read to her, just like he used to do in the office, played with her, and would bring her food (she didn’t eat much. None of them did.). Matsumoto brought her clothes, did her hair and told her stories. They tried to give her comfort and a sense of normality in the hospital room, but it was hard when the one thing that she wanted, the one thing she needed, was her dad, was the white haired teen still fast asleep with no known signs of completely waking up.

Ichigo needed Toshiro to wake up too. His guilt in not being there earlier, in not stopping him, in not finding another way, was eating him up. Watching his chest rise, willing, hoping that those beautiful teal eyes would open again. Wanting so badly to hear him speak, yell, shout, cry. Anything but this dead silence.

Mastumoto, he thinks, never stopped crying from the moment he returned. Toshiro was everything to her, her protector, her friend, her secret keeper, her partner, her child, her brother, her  _ captain _ . He was all she had left, the only family she had left. Gin was  _ gone.  _ Captain Shiba was  _ gone.  _ Toshiro was all that was left. Her tears ruined just as many papers as she completed but Nanao never said a word. Just accepted them as she visited.

Division Ten was a mess. The men were so depressed about the state of their captain, their icy strict captain, the one who guided them, trained them, protected them, that, for once, other divisions had to pick up their slack. Some of the men took up guard outside his room and refused to leave. Some overfilled the administration office full of treats, gifts, notes and toys. Some wandered aimlessly almost like without their captain, they lost their direction.

There were rumors that he wasn’t going to be their captain much longer and the lack of a zanpakuto in his hospital room seemed to solidify that, but that didn’t matter to them. Toshiro was their captain and would be until  _ he _ told them otherwise. Their absolute faith in their captain’s recovery caused strife with other divisions whose men took advantage of their downtrodden state.

The shinigami that weren’t would stand outside the doors, leaving money, white and yellow lilies and chrysanthemums on the steps. As if he was dying, as if he were already gone.

The captain who sacrificed everything to protect them, to protect the world, and may never truly wake up due to it.

_ And it was all for nothing.  _ Ichigo stared angrily at the wooden box in his hand,  _ A fucking puzzle box. All this for a fucking useless puzzle box that wouldn’t even open. _

Ichigo tried everything, even giving it to Urahara (while watching it carefully the entire time) to open the damn thing, but it wouldn’t budge. Urahara theorized that the only person who could open the puzzle box was Toshiro, but Toshiro was never awake long enough to find out.

So, Ichigo kept the box with him and never let it leave his sight, hoping one day they would see what was worth Toshiro’s sacrifice.

____________________________________________________________________________

Toshiro didn’t know how long he had been drifting. His inner world was the same as it always had been, the plains, the mountain, the lake. But there was no dragon to fill it, there was no snow, no wind, no blizzard.

It was with sorrow in his soul that he realized why the Valley of Hironori looked so familiar. 

It was his inner world, without Hyorinmaru’s power ruling over it, without him turning it into a world of white.

He hated his inner world now.

He hated how lonely it was, how empty it was. How colorful it was. How quiet it was.

He just wanted Hyorinmaru back.

____________________________________________________________________________

After those four weeks, Toshiro was able to stay awake for longer and longer periods. After another month, Toshirio had the energy to stand and walk around his hospital bed. 

Fuyuki was ecstatic. Jumping around her father, telling him about every moment that he missed, about the books that she had read, about the things that she had learned. Toshiro watched all this with a gentle smile and believed that to know that his daughter would be safe and happy made the trials were almost worth it.

Almost.

The dark hole in his soul screamed out as a reminder of what he lost, a hole he will never get filled. 

Almost worth it.

____________________________________________________________________________

The days grew easier and Toshiro eventually was allowed home, where he spent his days playing and reading with his daughter. He built her a swing on a tree in his backyard when he finally had the energy to do so. He finally finished the series he had been reading since before he left. He reorganized his library to fit the books, Fuyuki and he got from the bookstore (it was strange to be in the living realm without a seal).

He also reorganized his home, adding Ichigo’s stuff where it would fit. Toshiro figured it was easier to let the orange haired captain move in than to argue with him that he didn’t need to be babysat. Toshiro was too tired to argue with Ichigo and the nights made it where he just wanted him close.

The nights....

The nights were worse. There were nights that Ichigo had to put up barriers so that Toshiro’s screams wouldn’t wake up Fuyuki. Screams caused by the pain in his soul, by nightmares of loss, pain, and sacrifice. Nightmares that would cause Toshiro to wake up in a panic, afraid everyone was dead, that everyone was gone, or where he had relived losing Hyorinmaru all over again. 

On those nights, Ichigo would hold the trembling captain, whispering comforting words in his ear. On those nights, neither one of them would get any sleep. On those nights, they would spend until dawn talking, having whispered conversations about everything and anything, about Fuyuki and her latest adventure, about what they wanted from life, about their favorite foods, and everything in between. 

On those nights, if they did sleep, it was tangled around each other, Toshiro’s head tucked under Ichigo’s, legs intertwined and arms wrapped tightly around each other. Bundling Toshiro in a place full of love, safety and warmth. He slept easier then as the heat didn’t bother Toshiro anymore. Another thing he lost.

As time went on, even the nights became easier. Ichigo found kissing Toshiro on the forehead helped him relax. Toshiro found his favorite place to sleep was on Ichigo’s chest listening to his heart beat, ba bum, ba bum, ba bum. They found playing soft music made the world seem less silent, and soft sheets and blankets made it less harsh. 

Days went on this way before Ichigo had the courage to give Toshiro the box, when he thought Toshiro was healed enough, when his mother hen instincts stopped screaming at him to stop every time he thought about giving the cursed box to the ice prince. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Ichigo expected an explosion, expected fire and brimstone, expected anything, but when Toshiro opened the box, there was nothing. 

There was nothing. All that, all those trials, all the things Toshiro had been through....

It was for nothing.

Ichigo held Toshiro tight as the box fell from his hands. He sacrificed his powers, his position, his zanpakuto…

He sacrificed  _ Hyorinmaru _ for nothing.

  
“We’ll go back there tomorrow.” He heard Ichigo whisper in his ear, “We must have missed  _ something _ . We wouldn’t be here if the trials weren’t complete. There has to be  _ something.” _

But there wasn’t. It was all one giant waste of time.

It was for nothing.

“It’s okay, daddy. I drop things all the time too!” His daughter grinned, misreading why her dad was so upset. “I can get it for you!” She grinned, bright and cheerful, excited to be able to help her daddy with something. She picked it up softly so as to not break it, turning to hand it to her dad.

As their fingers touched, her face changed. It changed to almost pained. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Immediately, Toshiro stood up and picked her up, dropping the box from his hands, “What’s wrong, hatchling?” He cradled her to his chest as the tears began to stream down her face. Ichigo came up behind him, running a hand through her hair and rubbing her back.

“It hurts daddy.” She whimpered, gripping on to his shirt. 

“What hurts, little one?”

“Everything.” He looked at her in worry. He didn’t know what could be causing her to be in pain everywhere so suddenly. All she did was hand him the box...

“Tosh…” His head shot around to look at Ichigo, the horror in his voice making him more worried than he was before. Ichigo was staring at Fuyuki’s legs in anguished disbelief. Toshiro’s face turned into shock when he saw what Ichigo was looking at.

They were disappearing.

Her feet were disappearing.

They were dissolving into dust, slowly making its way up her body. His daughter was  _ disappearing  _ and there was nothing they could do. Ichigo didn’t know healing kido beyond first aid and Toshiro had no more reishi. 

There was nothing they could do.

_ “ _ What’s wrong, daddy?” He felt her hand wipe a tear off his face, her concern for him overriding any pain she was in.

“Nothing hatchling. I’m just sad you’re in pain.” Ichigo looked at him in shock and then in understanding, he was not going to let his daughter die afraid. There was no point in calling Division Four. They wouldn’t get here in time and Toshiro wasn’t sure if there was anything they  _ could  _ do. For the first time, Toshiro cursed himself for living so far away.

“Yeah, Yuki, you should know your daddy is a softy when it comes to you.” Ichigo pinched her cheek causing her to giggle. Toshiro could hear the lump in his throat, but was grateful she couldn’t. “What do you say we take a nap, princess? I think your daddy may need one and it may make the pain easier.”

She looked at him, searching for signs of his exhaustion. Toshiro faked a yawn, willing to play along, as long as it kept her distracted, as long as she didn’t look down. It was a small mercy that she was not in more pain from her body being dissolved.

It was up to her calves now and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

“Come on, daddy, nap time now.” she bounced in his arms as if trying to force him towards his room, “Ichi can read us a bedtime story.”

“Of course I will, princess.” With that Toshiro led the way to his room, Ichigo trailing not far behind, chatting with Fuyuki the entire way, distracting her, causing her to laugh and giggle, and allowing Toshiro to focus on this one heartbreaking task of taking his daughter to her final resting place. A thousand possibilities ran through Toshiro’s head as he stepped towards the room but each one came up empty, each one of them ended in failure. After all, how do you stop someone from being dissolved, from turning into spiritual particles?  


There was nothing they could do.

By the time they made it to the bed, it was up to her thighs. All three of them laid down on the bed, her two caretakers curled around the dying girl and Ichigo began to tell her a story, a story of love and family, of peace and harmony.

It was at her waist when she started to get tired, “Can Ichi stay, daddy?”

“Of course he can stay, little one.”

“I mean forever, daddy. He tells great stories and he makes you happy. He makes you smile, daddy. I like it when you smile and I think he does too. He can make us pancakes and fly kites with me.” She was stopped by a yawn. She rubbed her eyes, not noticing her fingers disappearing.

There was nothing they could do.

“...yes,” Ichigo looked up at Toshiro in shock, but his eyes were only on his daughter, “he can stay forever.”

“Good.” she yawned, it was up to her chest now, “I’m tired, daddy.”

“Then go to sleep, hatchling.” Toshiro could feel the lump in his throat grow bigger, “It’ll be okay. We’ll be right here when you wake up.” 

She tried to snuggle up to him but it was up to her neck now. 

There was nothing they could do.

He ran his fingers through her hair, “You promise?” 

“Of course, princess.” Ichigo was crying, but didn’t let the emotions bleed through to his voice. He lent down and kissed her on the forehead. “I love you, Yuki.”

“I love you, too.” She yawned again. “Good night, daddy. Good night, papa.” Her eyes closed, and dissolved away.

She was gone.

She was gone.

His daughter was gone.

His hatchling was gone

His world was gone.

She was  _ gone. _

  
  
  
  
  
  


Toshiro felt something snap and Ichigo saw the world explode. 

Maybe there was an explosion after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End note: OfTheAshTree, this was option A: the slow death. Option B was a quick death. After you chose A, I was like, oh no. Oh no! She picked the slow death… I’m ‘bout the Thanos snap Tosh’s daughter 😭😭


	8. Battle of the Heavens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toshiro and Ichigo are out for blood
> 
> But not everything is what it seems...
> 
> Nor has everyone been entirely truthful.
> 
> Our story begins to wrap up with The Battle of the Heavens

Toshiro stormed through the Seireitei, cold and furious with Ichigo not far behind. Shunsui gave him permission with one look at the pair and summoned Ichibē who seemed to have been waiting for this as he appeared within seconds. 

The ride was silent, stormy and deadly. Their anger being able to cut through steel if given the chance.

Fuyuki was a child. An innocent child. Who’s life was stolen too early.

And they were going to avenge her.

The strand was still there, waving and dancing. It’s call of  _ home _ infuriating to Toshiro now. 

With a single touch, Toshiro was pulled in, but despite his tight grip on Ichigo and Ichigo also touching the strand, only Toshiro was pulled in.

Ichigo was a bystander once more. His fury at being left behind shook the palace, but he did not move. He was going to watch and wait. He was going to watch Toshiro’s back once more.

After all, Toshiro had more of a right to be there, to avenge Fuyuki than him.

That was his daughter, his hatchling, his world.

And nothing was gonna stop him from getting her back or avenging her death.

Not with the unrelenting blizzard storming in his eyes and in his soul.

————————————————————————————————————————-

“You have returned.” The spirit was sitting peacefully at the water’s edge again. Her face was blank as she examined the fury rolling through him.

“Give. Her. Back.” He said, growling, teeth and fists clenched.

“Why?”

“She was innocent! She had nothing to do with this!” He snarled.

“So was Hyorinmaru, yet, you sacrificed him anyway.”

“That was his choice as he asked me to. She never chose this. It wasn’t her choice! Give her back!”

“I cannot.”

“Why not?” He growled stepping closer to her.

“You have not finished your trial.”

“Screw your trials.” He thundered, “I want my daughter back.”

“Then take her.” She held up a sphere. Inside the sphere was a white haired little girl with a green dress on. She was sleeping peacefully in the sphere, alive and whole.

Toshiro went to grab her but was blocked by a strike of lightning. 

The Spirit smirked, “You think this will be easy, little Captain? Think again. I am the original Guardian of the Heavens. I am the first. If you want your daughter back, you’ll have to take her from me.” With that, she hid the orb back into her endless furisode, stood up and launched herself into the sky, landing on a platform of reishi meters above his head. “Come and get me,  _ Captain~.” _

Toshiro snarled before crouching and launching himself in the air, forgetting in his fury that he had no zanpakuto, had no powers. 

Yet, still a platform formed. 

Toshiro didn’t think about it, reishi platforms were almost instinct at this point in his life.

The spirit smirked at the sight of him standing on the platform, “Are you going to stand there? Or are you going to come get me?” 

She waved a hand and a tunnel of wind shot out towards him, a miniature tornado headed straight towards his face. 

If someone was to ask later how Toshiro knew that he could do the things he did, he would reply “instinct”.

Because it was instinct that drove him to place his hand between his body and the wind tunnel as if telling it to stop. It slammed into his hand at full force before dissolving away after contact. He swiped the same hand downward causing a wall of ice to appear above his head in time to block her lightning strike. Then ducked as a sword swung through where his head had been. He dodged her next three swings, all aimed at vital areas, all aimed to kill. 

She was fast, she was skilled, and she was trying to kill him.

“You can’t beat me without a sword, boy.” He dodged her swing and rolled to avoid the next strike of lightning. He hadn’t even attacked yet. Her moves were so quick that it was taking everything from him just to stay alive. He waved his hand to block another air attack with an ice wall before feeling her sword grace his shoulder. 

He hissed in pain, feeling blood start to tickle down his shoulder. He went to freeze it before remembering, blood… he could use that.

He pulled the blood that was dripping from his shoulder and formed it into a sword in time for him to block her next strike, freezing over his wound as he did so. 

She smirked at him, “Now, you might have a chance, but you forgot one thing, I am the original Heavenly Guardian.” His eyes widened in horror as she flipped away, “and who’s to say we share the same morals?”

She raised her hand towards him and his blood turned cold in dread. As she rotated her hand inwards, he could feel his blood unfreezing and moving out of him from his shoulder. He watched in horror as his own blood spun around the guardian before freezing into spikes.

“Everything you can do, I did first. Everything you think of, I thought of first. What makes you think you can even win this fight?” He rolled to dodge the spikes aimed at him, “What makes you think you are worthy of my powers?” He froze three of the spikes headed for his face mid-air with a swipe of his hand. “What makes you think you are worthy of my title?”

“I don’t.” He panted, one knee on the ground. The use of these newfound abilities without the help of Hyorinmaru was draining, adding on the lightheadedness from bloodloss was making it hard to focus, “I don’t think I am worthy of your powers. I’ve spent my whole life fighting to protect others, to protect myself. I’ve spent a good majority of those years on the ground, watching someone step over me, discarding me as useless, powerless, a disgrace of a captain. I’ve never felt worthy of power, I never even wanted it.

“I just want to go home. My entire life, I have just wanted to go home. And I’m going to.” He stood up, looking her straight in her matching teal eyes, “I’m going to get my daughter and I’m going home.” 

“Home… such a wonderfully deceptive word.” She grinned wistfully, almost lost in thought. “After this, I get to go home too. That’s what I’m fighting for, little captain, the right to go home. I’ve been stuck here almost a thousand years.”

Her eyes turned hard and harsh, “That’s why I cannot fail. My husband and my son are waiting for me.”

“Then, let’s finish this.” He readied his blood sword. Taking a stance that he used thousands of times.

“Yes, little captain, let’s go  _ home _ .” She grinned maniacally, before raising her hand to the sky. A blizzard formed that was full of determination, strength, and persistence. Reaching out with sharp, howling winds and slippery ice. Wind howled, slicing across skin, reaching, grabbing, trying to hold on. Clouds gathered, dark, fierce and uncontrolled. Ice began collecting on the ground, cold and unforgiving.

The familiarity struck Toshiro, he knew this blizzard.

It was the same blizzard he summoned as a child, desperate and scared, the same one he summoned as a third seat, scared and determined, the same one he summoned as a captain, determined and protective.

This was  _ his  _ blizzard. 

These were  _ his  _ powers. 

_ I will never be a weapon for someone else’s use again. _

Fury, this time controlled and icy, rushed through him.  _ How dare she. How dare she use his powers against him. How dare she use  _ his  _ Heavens against him.  _

“Stop.” 

The winds continued to strike against him, but he felt no pain. They were mere breezes against his skin.

“Stop.”

The cold never touched him. It never could. Ice reached out, but couldn’t find a grip. She launched more blood icicles at his face.

“I said,  _ Stop.” _

It was as if time froze. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if he could freeze time. The spikes were mere centimeters from his nose, but, yet, he stood unflinching, almost daring the spikes,  _ his own power _ , to strike him. 

These were _his_ powers. This was _his_ domain. The whole sky,  _ the Heavens _ , was his domain and the guardian was a fool if she thought he was going to relent control to her again. He may not have ever wanted his powers, he may not have ever deserved his powers, but he was  _ not  _ going to let someone else control them. 

Not again. Never again.

He stared into her shocked eyes, her teal eyes so much like his, before waving his hand and sending every lighting strike, every wind, every ice, and every stake her way. 

The entire sky was his domain, and she was a fool for stepping into it.

____________________________________________________________________________

“I see he has learned the secret to his powers.” Ichigo heard the wings before he heard the voice. His mouth dropped in shock as he saw the ice dragon towering over him, landing gently beside him.

“...But you’re dead.”

“That is incorrect.” Hyorinmaru stated matter of factly, “The vesicle in which I was held was destroyed. I am very much still alive, as you can very well see.”

“...how?”

“I am not merely a zanpakuto.” Ichigo’s confusion reached new heights with this revelation. He knew his zanpakuto wasn’t purely a sword spirit either, not with the hollow and quincy blood running through his veins, but Toshiro was a shinigami, a  _ pure _ shinigami.

His confusion was apparently humorous to the dragon in front of him, who chuckled, low and icy, “I am a companion spirit or a guiding spirit. I am also known as the Guiding Star or the Northern Star.”

“Polaris?”

“That is one name for me, I suppose.” If dragons could smirk, Ichigo was pretty sure Hyorinmaru (or Polaris or whoever he was) was definitely smirking at him.

“...but how did you end up in a sword?”

“She asked me to.” He said, looking at the snowflake still showing the fight between the two white haired individuals. The fight looked like it was leaning more in Toshiro’s favor. No matter what the guardian threw at him, he would merely throw it straight back along with an attack of his own. She couldn’t touch him anymore, not even with bloodbending.

“Why would she do that? Why would  _ she  _ ask you to guide Toshiro?”

The dragon turned back to look at him, critically. Ichigo almost checked to make sure he was still wearing clothes as his gaze seemed to stare into his very soul, leaving him naked and defenseless. 

_ Well, now I know where Toshiro gets it from. _

“How much do you know about my Master’s past?”

“I know he was raised by his granny. I know the village he was raised around hated him. I don’t know much more, Tosh doesn’t like to speak of it.”

Hyorinmaru nodded as if expecting his answer. The dragon probably did, as he knew Toshiro better than Ichigo ever would, being once part of his very soul, “My master was left at his grandmother’s by his father.”

“His father?”

“Yes.” He looked back at the display again. “He was left there for his own protection, for his parents could no longer keep him safe, could no longer keep him hidden.”

“Why would they need to keep him hidden?”

“There was a man who wanted my Master’s powers for himself, a man who was willing and patient enough to manipulate my Master into being undyingly loyal to him. I believe you know him as Sosuke Aizen.”

“Aizen?”

“Yes, and no one knew Aizen’s plans more than my master’s father, Gin Ichimaru.”

“Ichimaru was Toshiro’s father?! But he attacked Tosh! They fought each other!”

“To protect his son.” Ichigo stopped mid-rant at his words, “Ichimaru did a lot of things to protect his family, a lot of things that most would oppose, including wiping my master’s mother’s memories of her son and replacing them with a still born little girl. A little girl that she mourned every day for and still does to this day. After all, why else would she still visit her grave.”

________________________________________________________________________

_ “Where’s Ran? I had a really funny story to tell her.” Ichigo said, gazing around the Tenth Division’s office. Toshiro looked up, pausing in his paperwork at the intrusion.  _

_ “...She’s in the Rukon Districts.” _

_ “Is she on a mission? Over seeing a patrol? Maybe I can join her!” _

_ “...I wouldn’t do that.” _

_ “Why not?” _

_ He sighed, “I’m only telling you this because I trust you and because Matsumoto trusts you as well,” he sat back in his seat, “Matsumoto is going to go visit her daughter’s grave. She takes the 21st of January off every year to do so.” He looked towards the window, sadness in his eyes, “It’s the only day she’s unavailable and the only day I won’t force her to be.” _

_ ___________________________________________________________________________ _

“Rangiku…” his eyes widened. “Rangiku is Toshiro’s mother?”

The dragon hummed his affirmation, “And the woman my master is fighting is his great-grandmother, Amaterasu.”

“Amaterasu… Like the goddess?!”

“Exactly like the goddess.” He smirked again at the orange haired captain, “The Queen of the Heavens and creation itself.”

__________________________________________________________________________

“Yield!” He held his sword to her throat, a strike of lightning ready to be summoned with just a thought, and a blizzard forming in his hand, “Yield.”

She was panting, on her knees in front of him. Blood trickled from her forehead into her eyes, her teal eyes, that were so much like his, “I yield.” 

He lowered his sword and dispersed it and the blizzard, “My daughter?”

She stood, shakily to her feet, she looked as drained as he had when he left here the first time. He almost wanted to help support her, feeling like she should never look that frail, that  _ vulnerable. _ “You have passed the Trial of Power.”

“My  _ daughter?” _

She laughed, “Focused, aren’t you?” She grinned sadly, “My son was the same way. I think you two would have gotten along great, had you been able to meet.” She took the orb from her furisode, “Before you leave, can you allow me one last thing?”

His eyes narrowed at her, “That wasn’t the deal.”

“I just want to tell you a story, that’s all.” She handed him the orb containing his daughter, “I want to tell you the true story of The Dragon in the Mountains.”

As her hand was removed from the orb, the child in it grew rapidly until she was the appropriate size and it burst open. She fell gently into her father’s waiting arms, sleeping peacefully. Toshiro checked her over with a swoop of his reishi before looking at the Guardian once more.

“I already know that story, I was told it as a child.”

“This is the original version of the story.”

“What about the knowledge to heal the realm? What about the entire reason I came here?”

She smiled, “I think you’ll find that they are one and the same.”

His eyes narrowed once more, “...fine. Let’s hear your story.”

Her grin grew larger and she looked behind him, “You can join us now.”

Toshiro wasn’t expecting much when the portal reopened. He was expecting Ichigo, wearing a wide, dumb grin on his face, pride shining from his every pore. He expected him to come running, to kiss him on the forehead and to check on Fuyuki.

Those things did happen...

...but Toshiro wasn’t paying attention to his lover.

No, he was too busy staring at the ice dragon who came behind him.

“Hyorinmaru…”

Ichigo smiled gently and kissed his cheek before taking Fuyuki out of his arms, “Go ahead, I’ve got her.” Toshiro looked at him, searching his eyes to ensure what he was seeing was true.

That this wasn’t another illusion. He doesn’t think he could handle another illusion.

“Go.”

That was all the encouragement Toshiro needed as he sprinted towards the ice dragon. The dragon bent his neck down perfectly timed as always, as if they had done this a thousand times, just as his Master, his fledgling, wrapped his arms around his snout. Tears hit his scales as the teen’s shoulders shook.

“I thought I told you no tears, Master.” Hyorinmaru closed his eyes, feeling their bond form once more, but this time different. His fledgling was taking his first flight. He was independent now. He could stand on his own now, more than ever before.

“I don’t have to keep that promise anymore.” the dragon chuckled before laying down in the grass. He pulled the teen towards him, having him sit against his side before putting his head in his fledgling’s lap. He could still feel the tears falling as his master stroked his head but these were tears of joy and relief, so Hyorinmaru thinks he can let it pass this time.

____________________________________________________________________________

Ichigo watched with a grin on his face as Toshiro reconnected with his guiding spirit. 

He turned to look at the woman beside him, “So… Amaterasu, right?”

She looked away from her great grandson, her teal eyes lit in joy for his happiness. She smiled at him, “Ichigo Kurosaki, right?” He grinned, “and this must be Fuyuki.” She gazed lovingly at the girl in his arms, “She is very beautiful and very loved.”

“She is.”

Her face took on a serious expression, “You will take care of them, right?”

“Until my last breath.” 

“Good, because I will end you, slowly and painfully if you dare let any harm come towards either one of them.”

The look in her eyes terrified him, “Yes, goddess, guardian, ma’am.” He bowed as low as he could with the child still in his arms, sweat dripped from his forehead. She was as terrifying as Toshiro when angered.

She laughed, “Ama is fine. I know the name can be a bit of a mouthful. Plus, we’re almost family now.”

“Then you can call me Ichigo.” He laughed, “I was expecting bloodshed and violence coming here, not to be threatened by my boyfriend’s great- grandmother.”

“Life is full of unexpected events.”

“That it is.” They shared a grin.

____________________________________________________________________________

“The Dragon in the Mountain… now… where to begin.”

“The beginning is always a good place to start.” Toshiro smacked Ichigo on the head from where he was curled up at his side and against Hyorinmaru. Fuyuki resting peacefully in Ichigo’s arms, stirred as she was jostled.

Amaterasu laughed, “Cheeky one, aren’t you?” Ichigo grinned.

“My granny always started the story with ‘Before the Beginning.’”

“I liked to start with that one too.” She smiled.

“Before the Beginning...”


	9. The Dragon in the Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story that began this story
> 
> The Dragon in the Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short Chapter but one of my favorites to write :D

Before the beginning, there was a king and his two twin children, a prince and a princess. The king loved his two children dearly and when they turned old enough he granted them one gift, anything their heart desired. 

His son asked for a sword, a sword that could cut down any enemy he faced. He had the best blacksmiths in the land, forge a sword as sharp as a needle and as strong as an ox. One that would cut down a tree but was light enough for the boy to wield.

The princess, more peaceful than her brother, asked for a companion, a friend. One that would stay loyal to her in this life and in the next, so that she would never be alone.

The king thought long and hard on what he could give his daughter. He wanted to respect her wishes but also wanted to give her a companion that could protect her like the sword could her brother.

All the animals he thought of either died too early or would not be able to defend his precious child. After months of thinking, he turned to one of the wisest beings he knew, the Dragon in the Mountain. 

The Dragon was an ancient being, almost as ancient as the king, with scales already losing its luster. Blindness had taken her sight long ago, but her senses were still as sharp as when the king first met her.

“Help me, oh wise one,” he pleaded with her. Her eyes white and milky turned towards him.

* * *

“...and she ate him.” 

Toshiro glared in exasperation at Ichigo as his daughter pouted, “Noooo, papa, she can’t kill the king! It ruins the story!”

“I’m sorry, princess, but if that’s how the story goes then that’s how the story goes.” He tapped her on the nose, “Never trust a dragon, Yuki, vicious, little tricksters they are.”

Toshiro rolled his eyes as Hyorinmaru chuckled, “What have I told you about calling me little?”

Ichigo grinned at him mischievously, “So, you’re not denying the vicious trickster part? Just the part of you being little?”

“I’m not little.”

“I’m very aware.” He winked. Toshiro gaped at him,  _ did he just…  _ then slapped him on the head. 

“Ow! What did I do?”

“Don’t be a bad influence on my daughter.” 

“I’m pretty sure being violent is being a bad influence as well. Ow!”

Fuyuki, used to her caretakers’ antics, turned to a giggling Ama with a serious expression on her face, “she didn’t really eat the king, did she?”

“No, little one. She did not.” She smiled, “Now, where was I?”

* * *

“Help me, oh wise one,” he pleaded with her. Her eyes white and milky turn towards him.

“I need a companion for my daughter who is courageous and wise, loyal and supportive. I need a companion who will be with her, guiding her and defending her in this life and the next. But when I go through every animal, I find them all lacking in some way or another.”

She laughed, “I am offended by my old friend.” She smiled in his direction, “Have I not been by your side all these centuries? Have I not stayed loyal to you, have I not been wise enough that you come to me still just as you are now?”

“I did not mean to offend, my friend, but you are the only dragon left.”

“That does not mean there cannot be more.”

* * *

“How can there be more if there’s only one?” Fuyuki tilted her head in confusion.

Toshiro chuckled, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead, “I wondered that too, but keep listening. It will be explained.”

* * *

“That does not mean there cannot be more.” The king’s confusion made the dragon laugh, “Look to the stars, my old friend. Dragons are creatures of the heavens. As long as there are stars in the sky, dragons will be there to guide those who need it.”

She leaned down so her head was even with the king, looking him in the eyes, “Look to the stars, my old friend. Never stop looking.” 

Years passed, before the king understood what the Dragon in the Mountain meant. Years on the throne, watching the realms grow and expand, watching civilizations begin, grow and fall.

His daughter took to the Dragon’s words and every night she spoke to the stars, telling them of her kingdom, of her dreams, of her wishes. She told the stars of her ideas, her misgivings with her twin, her sorrows and her pain.

Some nights, it seemed as if the stars guided her with winds pushing her from one direction to the other and snowflakes falling on decisions that she could not choose between. 

She never felt alone with the stars. She was  _ home. _

One night, she had a terrible dream, of pain, of loss, of betrayal. The stars could not give her the advice, the comfort she needed, instead they led her to the mountain, where the dragon laid resting.

“What is wrong, dear child?” The Dragon spoke, milky eyes tired with her years.

“I had a nightmare. It was terrible but it wasn’t of me, it was of someone I don’t know, someone I’ve never met.” Tears fell from her eyes, “They were so alone. They went through all this pain and suffering… and they were alone.”

“Cursed with knowledge, you are, child. A curse, but a blessing all the same. The Heaven’s doing, I suppose.”

“But why?” The child cried.

“To protect you. Knowledge is power, my dear. The Heaven’s have blessed your blood with knowledge. Knowledge of what they can see, what they have seen, and what they will see. You must take heed with these visions, they will do you well, but they can also bring you to a bitter end.”

Every other night, she had dreams, visions, of what the Heaven’s wanted her to see. She saw her brother’s future betrayal of their father, she saw the birth of a son she hadn’t had yet, she saw her own creation. She saw happiness, sadness, hope, and loss.

Most of her dreams, however, were of a little boy with eyes like her own.

* * *

“I don’t remember this part.” Toshiro looked at her in confusion.

“That’s because the story you were told was a fantasy. This one is history.”

His eyes widened as he seemed to look past her and she could see the gears going into overdrive in his head. He looked back at her in shock and a sense of disbelief. She held a finger up to her mouth and winked at him.

He had already figured it out.

* * *

Most of her dreams, however, were of a little boy with eyes like her own. Watching as he was torn from his mother from a young age, hunted for his powers, for his bloodline. She watched as he spent his life on the run, hiding from a man with cold brown eyes, hiding from her brother, always fearful, always alone.

She would wake up sobbing, her heart going out to the little boy who hadn’t even been born yet.

“Protect him,” she pleaded, “protect him and guide him, as you have me.”

And the stars answered.

The Dragon in the Mountain looked up from her cave as she felt the future changing. As she took her last breath and rejoined her brethren in the stars, she smiled.

“Protect him, Hyorinmaru, the prince’s fate is now in your hands, just as the balance of the realms will be in his.”


	10. The Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toshiro learns of the past and makes a decision towards the future.

“I’m a prince?”

“No, you’re a king.” Toshiro’s mind went blank. Ichigo looked at him, dumbfounded, “to be specific, you’re the Soul King now as everyone before you in the line is gone.”

“But.. but you’re still here.”

She smiled gently, “I am, but I am not. I died over a thousand years ago by my brother’s hand. I have been waiting here ever since, waiting for you.”

“But why me?”

“You are the one who inherited my eyes, my powers and my title as the Guardian of the Heavens. A title I gained, because as I control the heavens, I also created them and those that reside in them. I created Soul Society and gave the soul reapers their powers. It is my legacy and now, it is your inheritance.”

“So, I really am a princess?” Fuyuki tilted her head. Ichigo chuckled slightly, still bewildered by the goings of the conversation.

Ama laughed, “I guess you are, darling.”

“Your brother,” Ichigo started, swallowing worriedly, “Is he still around?”

“Not anymore.” Sadness poured from her face and from her words, “I did say everyone before Toshiro was gone, didn’t I? I believe, many years ago, you handled my brother yourself, Ichigo.”

_ “She saw her brother’s betrayal of her father…” Her father being the Soul King… Ichigo handled her brother himself…  _

“Yhwach?! Your brother was Yhwach?!” Toshiro almost shouted, “Your brother almost destroyed Soul Society! TWICE! HE…”

“He was different when we were younger.” Her eyes were downturned, looking at her hands, “It was my fault. I didn’t heed the Dragon’s warning. I saw his betrayal in a dream and believed that was his future, not realizing it was one of many. I warned my father and he disowned and banished him. My brother... he never forgave me for that. That’s why he attacked Soul Society. It was my realm, but as long as my bloodline remains in this world, Soul Society will never fall.”

“So, he came after you?” 

“He did.” She looked up towards the sky, “This Valley, I named it after my husband, who stood by my side as we died to protect our son, to give him a chance to run. I am saddened to know that it was my own creations that killed my son, for being related to my brother.”

She looked at Toshiro, “Please, if you can, my son has never had a proper burial. For me, for your granny, can you get him out of that nightmarish 12th Division and finally put him to rest?”

“We will.” Ichigo squeezed a still Toshiro’s hand. Ichigo could feel the overwhelmed teen processing, overthinking, restructuring his entire life, overanalyzing every second which has brought him to this point.

“Tosh.” He was ignored.

“Toshiro.” Well, it was more like his brain was going so fast, deconstructing and reconstructing, he wasn’t processing what was going on around him.

Ichigo sighed, placing Fuyuki on the ground where she ran off to interrogate her distant grandmother. Despite the trials, Ichigo didn’t have any hard feelings towards the spirit. It was obvious that she loved her family and was doing what she deem right by them. The trials, harsh and cruel as they were, were a way for her to prepare her great grandson for the throne. Making him realize what powers he had, what he could do with them and how to control them. The trials helped Toshiro let go of his mistakes and his failures, and make his own decisions, completely unhelped and unguided. They helped him be more independent, more confident, less burdened. Things he will need if he becomes king.

He turned towards the ice prince at his side, gently taking his face between his hands and guiding him to look into his eyes, “You don’t have to do this, you know? You don’t have to become king. You can say no. We can find another way.”

“No,” Toshiro sighed, “It’s my power, my inheritance, my responsibility. I may not want it, but it’s my responsibility to do something about it. I owe them. I owe my granny, my sister, my lieutenant...”

“You owe them nothing.” Ichigo cut him off, gently, “This is your choice and yours alone.”

“He’s right, master.” Hyorinmaru raised his head from Toshiro’s lap, “This is your choice. We can guide you and prepare you only so far. Now, it’s your turn to take the next step.”

Toshiro took a deep breath, looked into the brown eyes in front of him, filled with worry and adoration for him, and nodded. Honestly, he thought this decision would be harder to make, but looking at Hyorinmaru, his daughter giggling as she swung off her twice over grandmother’s arm, Ichigo…

He stood up and faced the spirit, straight backed, accepting of his decision.

She looked at him as his daughter jumped off, tilting her head in questioning.

He took a deep breath, “Teach me everything.”

She grinned, “Everything?”

* * *

_ Honestly _ , Ichigo thought as he put on his formal black kimono,  _ I can’t imagine this ending any differently.  _ The kimono was stiff and expensive, but only the best was used for the Prince Consort. He wore his title with pride, less for himself and more for the man he stood beside.

Long gone were the days of chaos and ruin. Long gone were the days of the Collapse. Long gone were the days of the trials, of pain and suffering.

He wrapped his arms around his husband’s shoulder as he stood behind him in their shared office, papers scattered in organized piles across the desk. “Working again, I see.” 

Toshiro hummed in confirmation before kissing Ichigo on the cheek, “Someone has to keep the realms from collapsing… again.” He returned to his work.

Ichigo, long used to his husband’s workaholic nature, simply smiled softly, resting his head on the other’s, happy that the head did not hold the sharp metallic crown it was required to wear everywhere but in their private dwellings.

The realms were thriving under his husband’s protective, analytical watch. Ichigo helped as well, making sure that Toshiro didn’t collapse from overworking and giving him someone to bounce ideas off of. He was also the ambassador between the Soul Palace and the Soul Society, the rulers deeming it necessary for there to be closer relations between the two in case of issues like Yhwach or Aizen flaring up again. 

They were happy.

_ And what did you expect,  _ Ichigo winked,  _ this is only a story after all, a fairytale. A fantasy novel of a lost prince, a hero, going through trials on his way to becoming the king the realm deserved. What else were you expecting? _

“You forgot the ending, papa!” Fuyuki scolded as she laid resting in her bed.

“Oh, did I?” He smiled, poking her in her side, causing her to squeal.  _ “And they lived happily ever after. The End.” _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“You are such a sap.” Toshiro rolled his eyes from where he had been reclining on their daughter’s bed. Ichigo grinned at him, “So, we are just going to ignore the power struggle between the noble clans and us, the battles to seal the cracks in the realms, and everything else that has happened since I became king?”

“Exactly!” Ichigo exclaimed as he tapped the giggling girl on the nose. “It’s a much better story that way!”

Toshiro smirked, “You’re only saying that because it means you don’t have to tell the story of how you accidentally started the Amenam Crisis.”

Ichigo froze, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Or the incident with the…”

“Never happened!”

“Or how about…”

“They lived happily ever after! The End!”

Toshiro laughed, “You can’t change the story just because you don’t like part of it.”

Ichigo stuck out his tongue, “Of course I can. It’s my story, tell your own how you want to tell it.”

“Very mature, and if you remember correctly, that  _ is _ my story.”

“Nope, I’m the one telling it, therefore it’s my story.

“It doesn’t work that way, Ichigo.”

“Yes, it does! I claim author’s rights.”

“You didn’t write it!” 

Fuyuki and Rangiku shared fond eye rolls.

“It’s like they’re an old married couple.” Rangiku stage whispered to her granddaughter as the other two left the room still bickering away, “Old and always arguing.”

The six year old laughed, “We wouldn’t want them any other way.”

“No, we wouldn’t.” She grinned. She kissed her granddaughter on the forehead, “Good night, sweetheart.”

“Good night, Nana.”

  
  
  
  


_ And they lived happily ever after... _

  
  
  
  
  


_ OW! Toshiro! GET BACK HERE YOU VICIOUS, LITTLE TRICKSTER. _

“I am not little!” He turned and glared daggers at his husband, “I am exactly one cm taller than you!”

“One centimeter?” He put his hands on his hips, “That’s not much in the grand scheme of things, Tosh.”

“Still makes me taller than you.” Toshiro smirked.

Ichigo walked up to his smug husband and flattened his hair, “See! It’s all hair! Your height is at least twenty five percent hair!”

“You’re 25% in the grave.” Toshiro glared at him, smacking his hands away.

“Sucks for you,” he stuck out his tongue, “I’m already dead. So, I’m one hundred percent in a hole.”

Toshiro paused and looked at him, humor dancing in his eyes, pressing his lips together as he waited for the other to realize what he said.

“...dug that one myself, didn’t I?”

Toshiro chuckled, “You’re an idiot. I swear, half the messes I clean up are because of you or you somehow get involved and make it worse.”

Ichigo grinned, bright and proud, “that’s why you love me, right?”

“I certainly would be bored without you.” 

Ichigo pulled his husband into his arms, Toshiro naturally putting his head on his shoulder, being too tall to hear his heartbeat anymore unless he crouched, “I promise you that I will make your life full of adventure and amusement.”

Toshiro sighed into his neck, before he lifted his head up, “I think you have already succeeded in that. How about a relaxing couple of years, with no chaos?”

“Have you met me?”

“Point taken.”

“How about a happy ending then? How about,” he grinned maniacally, “we lived happily ever after?”

Toshiro rolled his eyes, “You’re not gonna let that up, are you?”

“Have you met me?”

“I think I may have.” Toshiro smiled, before sealing the ending with a kiss.

  
  


* * *

At least, that’s how the story was supposed to end. 

A happy ever after right? 

_ Whoever said endings were easy needs to get their brain checked.  _ Ichigo thought as he looked across the battlefield, blood dripping down his face.  _ Stories with an easy ending were ones that you told your children at night to help them sleep. Stories to let them know there was another tomorrow.  _

This is not that story. This is a story of hardship and fighting for the right to survive. The story of protecting those you care about, of protecting the world. 

This is not some fairytale.

“Ichigo!” Toshiro slid down the pile of rubble like the wounds he also carried were nothing. He landed a few feet from Ichigo before racing to his side. Based on his breathing, he bruised or at least fractured some of his ribs. Based on his limp, he had a twisted ankle or worse if he covered a worse injury in ice first. He had cuts and bruises all over and Ichigo was pretty sure his left arm was broken, but to be honest, he was better off than most people in this war.

Still, covered in dirt, blood, and who knows what else, Toshiro was easily the most handsome man Ichigo had ever seen. 

Ichigo grinned tiredly as he leaned on his zanpakuto, “‘sup, Tosh?”

“There’s a war going on.” 

“Noticed.” Despite being in the middle of battle, Ichigo couldn’t help pulling Toshiro into his arms. The feel of his body against his own was a relief neither one knew they needed until then. 

To know each other was okay. That they were surviving.

Ichigo looked into the teal eyes of his boyfriend, a gentle snowfall hidden in their depths, and smiled, resting his forehead on the other’s.

They were okay.

Ichigo felt the same thing Toshiro did as they simultaneously ducked and rolled out of the way of a giant hand. An ice barrier shielded Ichigo as he grabbed his zanpakuto. They stood back to back as the Kushanāda reached for them again. 

“See you on the other side, love?” 

Toshiro rolled his eyes as he leaped over the gigantic arm, “If you die on me, I’m gonna find you and kill you myself.”

Ichigo laughed, “Sounds promising.” He grinned, “You following me to the ends of the realms, it’s almost romantic.”

“The only romantic part of it will be when I stare you in the eyes as I shove my sword through your chest.” He swung his ice sword causing the Kushanāda to freeze.

“Kinky.” One blast from Zangetsu caused the giant being to collapse. 

“I told you I’d see you on the other side,” Ichigo snarked, eyes dancing as Toshiro landed next to him. 

“That’s one down.”

“Yeah…” a sigh escaped his lips, exhaustion seeping into his bones, “and only about 14,000 to go. Why couldn’t Division 12 catch this sooner? A crack this large bleeding into Hueco Mundo should have been noticed somehow.”

“They were busy monitoring the other five cracks, especially the ones connected to Soul Society and the Living Realms.” Ichigo could see his expression simply through the tilt in his voice.

“Don’t.” Ichigo put a hand on his shoulder, “it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

His white hair flung blood and snow off as he shook his head, “It’s not that easy.”

“You can’t blame yourself for the mistakes of the past. This, all this, is not your fault.”

“But it’s my burden to bear.” He closed his eyes.

“It’s  _ our  _ burden to bear, Tosh. You’re not alone in this. Never forget that.”

He could see the tips of his lips curl, “How could I forget when you remind me every time I even slightly doubt myself.” 

“It’s my job.” Ichigo grinned. He pressed his lips against the white covered temple, ignoring the dirt, knowing it was a comfort to his lover just as much as it was to him.

“You ready?”

The blizzard forming from the gentle snowfall as the teal eyes reopened was all the response he needed. 

Ichigo gripped his zanpakuto tighter, staring out at the numerous Kushanādas wandering around Hueco Mundo. Off in the distance, he could hear Hyorinmaru’s roar as he attacked yet another giant Hell being. He took a deep breath, “Let’s go!” 

The war was just beginning. The War of Rectification.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End note: 
> 
> “You are the one who inherited my eyes, my powers and my tits. Tits I gained, because as I control the heavens, I also have voluptuous boobs. It is my legacy and now, it is your inheritance.”
> 
> I love typos XD
> 
> For those who already read most of this chapter, I’m sorry 😅 I hated how it ended. It didn’t match the flow of the story nor the tone of it. Plus, this gives me a chance to expand the story and answer a bunch of questions people have been asking in the comments.
> 
> I hope to start write the sequel, The War of Rectification, soon :) I already have part of an outline.
> 
> Love you all and thank you for reading <3 :)


End file.
